


All Our Problems

by Crank_the_Machine



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anxiety, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Like a lot of magic, M/M, My First Fanfic, My First Smut, Oh also there’s magic, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Possible smut, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse, Tags Are Hard, i’ll fix the tags later probably, someone please stop my sinful hand from writing trash, what the hell is a beta reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crank_the_Machine/pseuds/Crank_the_Machine
Summary: The road to healing isn’t as easy as they wanted it to be.Daniel Decker is struggling to keep his head above water. In a tough world, he clings to the only thing he knows can keep him afloat: love. But after an incident leaves him heartbroken and with nothing to hold on to, Daniel sees no other choice than to exile himself to his grandfather’s old farm. Not planning to stay for too long, he nonetheless finds himself discovering new friends, new problems, magical green apples? and maybe even the love he thought he couldn’t have. But most importantly, he learns he isn’t the only one in need of healing.
Relationships: Abigail/Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Alex & Penny (Stardew Valley), Alex/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Shane/Male Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to my first actual work! Please be patient with me, as I’ve never actually taken on a big or long project before. I’m generally trying to find my footing in the whole writing gig, and I’m just figuring things out as I go. I have a story in mind, but I’m also a bit of an over-thinker- (I’m mostly posting to stop myself from editing!) so we’ll see what happens! Either way, I hope you enjoy All Our Problems.

Before he had drifted off that night, he was particularly enjoying the new brand of silence. It wasn’t actually silent, not in the traditional sense; nature, in truth, is loud.  
But it was sound he much preferred over the angry noise of the city- honking cars, belligerent people, wailing sirens. 

But this... This was far from it.

It was perfect.

A silence perfect to fade away.

...Then, someone was hammering on the door. 

The noise sent Daniel, who had been knocked out until then, into immediate confused panic. Cowering from the light, he tumbled from the bed onto the floor with a heavy thud, swearing loudly and struggling with the blankets that had tightly woven their way around him in the night. It sounded (and felt) like someone was pounding into his head, leaving his brain scrambled. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was happening or where he was, and, worst of all, he couldn’t unwrap himself. It suddenly occurred to him that he must have been kidnapped by a master bed-sheet tie-er, and would promptly be relieved of his organs. 

“Mr. Decker, it’s the mayor!” A voice added to the chaos. “I’ve been out here a little while! Is everything alright?” 

The mayor...? He froze in place, trying to process. The pounding on the door continued, sounding more and more like someone was attempting to knock it off its hinges. Mayor... Lewis?  
It all clicked into focus. He was in a dark, dingy, disordered one room (two, if you counted the semi-functioning shoe-box of a bathroom) farmhouse. Abysmally alone. As if responding to the turning wheels in his brain, or maybe just the shockwaves from the fist hammering at the door, the blankets fell away.  
So, it seemed he wasn’t losing his kidneys after all.

“Uh- one moment, Mr. Mayor!” Daniel yelled through the door. As if the mayor hadn’t heard, he continued making the unholy noise. _What the hell? What time is it?_ “I’ll be right there, I’m just... not decent!” He called, a statement which, he decided, was completely true. He quickly jumped off the floor, which groaned in protest, grabbing the threadbare bedsheets from the ground along with tissues and empty bottles of whatever poison he drank the previous night. After shoving them hastily into what he considered their proper places, he lurched across the small room to the entrance, hesitantly reaching out to the knob. He had not mentally or physically prepared himself for a visitor. He took a breath, checking to make sure he was wearing pants and a long-sleeve shirt, and as an afterthought, combed his hair through with his fingers.

Daniel opened the door, greeting the mayor with an easily-faked smile despite the sunlight assaulting his brain. “‘Morning, Mayor,” he said cheerfully enough, but he couldn’t help but feel wary of the knocking lunatic. Mayor. Whatever. He stood with his whole body blocking the doorway, hoping his visitor couldn’t see the mess inside. 

The mayor, a relatively suitably dressed man that he judged by his gray hair (covered in a... nice? hat) to be well into his years, had been standing with a fist poised to strike the door, but casually dropped his hand to his side at Daniel’s appearance. “Ah, Mr. Decker!” he said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Daniel tried to keep his smile from transforming into a grimace. “No, not at all, sir,” he said. “Actually, I was just about to get up. Face life, you know?” He bared his teeth.

”Good, good. And call me Lewis!” Lewis said with a smile, which was so genuine and caring that it was almost frightening. “I was actually concerned, along with Robin, of course, that you hadn’t been seen in town since your move.” Daniel could tell by the odd wrinkle around his eyes that the mayor was surveying him closely. “And it seems that the farm is untouched. Not that you could get much done in a few days, but...” he trailed off, then started again, “I came by to check on you and make sure you were settling in alright! I wouldn’t want anyone to be wary of Pelican Town.” 

Daniel quickly corrected him. “Don’t worry, Mr... uh, Lewis. I’m not wary at all. I was just sick,” he accented the fading stuffiness in his voice, “and just didn’t feel like I should really be greeting anyone as a virus-carrying zombie.”

”Ah! I understand,” he said, pleased. “I suppose the stress of traveling got to you, then?”

”Yeah, I guess that’s it,” he agreed.

“Well, we do have a good doctor in town, if you need it,” Lewis said. Daniel thought he’d have to pass. “It’s always important to take care of yourself. But, if you need help navigating the town, I could give you a tour!” His smile turned into a wide grin. “I thought about it, and realized it’s the right way to welcome our newcomer to our small town. I actually cleared my day for it! No doubt everyone will be excited to see the long-awaited arrival of a new farmer.”

Daniel was taken aback. “Well, I...” He groped for an excuse. He didn’t mean any offense to the townspeople, but he didn’t necessarily arrive in town to make friends- especially as a farmer. 

“I was thinking of taking the day to familiarize myself with the land,” he said at last. Lewis was not put out. “The land will be here tomorrow, Mr. Decker,” he began sagely. “The people may not. I think that is something we’ve all had to learn, if I’m not mistaken.” Daniel felt a stab of cold in his chest. “...Yeah. I know.” He suddenly felt very small.  
The mayor let his smile drop for a second, seeming to notice something shift in his demeanor.  
“...My mistake. I spoke without thinking. I am an old man, you know. And he was...” He cleared his throat, composing himself.  
“Regardless! I’ll wait here while you get ready. No time to waste!”  
“I...Alright.” It was clear he couldn’t refuse. “I’d invite you in, but there’s only room for one.“  
“Oh, I know. No offense taken. I’ll sit out on the old set of chairs-“ he looked to his left, “-or I would have, if last weeks storm hadn’t taken them away. Well. I’ll be here!” 

”Well... I guess I’ll see you in a few.” Daniel stepped back inside and shut the door. He ground his fist into his head, deciding his first order of business would be to pour himself a quick drink.


	2. Purple Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail basically acts like an angry teenager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should not that there will be three POV’s for this fic.

Abigail slammed a can down on the newly-cleaned shelf, spitefully hoping she would snap it right in half. Not that it would’ve done a damn thing if it did... if she broke the shelf, she would be working more for Pierre- her dad- not less. Of course, it would‘ve been cathartic, seeing the white splinters of wood all over his dumb little shop... But as much as she craved destruction, she craved to get away from him even more.

“Abigail! There’s no need to be so violent.”  
“Yeah, alright.” She stuck her tongue out in the direction of his voice. 

It had been a few days since the new Farmer had moved in, and while the rest of the town seemed to believe that it greatest thing to happen since Sam had been banned from participating in the luau, Abigail was absolutely miserable. She spent a great deal of her free time exploring that old farm, climbing the forest of trees and getting lost with a flute or sword in its tall grasses. It may have been a little childish, but sometimes, with a particularly strange looking stick in hand, she felt like a mysterious witch living in an age-old forest. If only she were. It was just so... magical, as if the place was responding to her presence by sending her secret whispers through the trees. Whenever Sebastian was busy, and when Sam was “busy,” she knew where to go. 

Yoba, she doubted she would ever be able to set foot on that land again- and a Farmer didn’t seem like someone fun to be around. As she neared completion of her stocking responsibilities, she conjured an image of an overall-wearing hick Farmer- Their Farmer. Judging by the fact that she hadn’t even seen them in town yet, she imagined they’d be reclusive and unwelcoming, or boring and hollow, or strict and mean, or- 

Damn. It.

She gave the shelf a small kick. 

So no, she wouldn’t be able to get back in.

Losing her old hideout meant that she had to find a new one- and until she did, she was forced to spend more time in her room, where her dad could find her. Or, even better, where she could hear both her parents scream mercilessly at each other. Or at her. Or in general. Sure, there was the mines and the woods, but... well. Not an option.

As the final can left her hand, she swore that if she ever came face to face with this stupid Farmer guy, that mean, strict, reclusive douche, she would punch him right in his d-  
“Sorry, can I just get to the sugar?”  
The unfamiliar voice knocked her out of her thoughts, causing Abby to flail abruptly and knock a row of her carefully-placed cans to the ground with a bang. “Crap!” They rolled in all directions, knocking into each other and being generally disobedient inanimate objects.  
“Woah! Sorry, let me fix this...” he said. Before she could turn and stop the stranger, or even catch a glimpse of his face, he had immediately leaned down to retrieve the fallen items. She sighed, looking down on messy brown hair. Either he was a traveler or a tourist, and she didn’t care for either. They were always too much trouble...

She let anger give way to defeat.   
“Aw, man...”  
She stooped down beside him to help, catching a whiff of mint and soap. “This is completely my fault,” she recited robotically.   
“Abigail!” Pierre called from the register. “What happened?” Abby gritted her teeth; she hated his angry, condescending tone. The stranger, who she could now see had soft brown eyes and multiple ear piercings, looked at her curiously. He cautiously continued shelving the items. “Don’t worry about it,” she said to him. “I just dropped some cans again!” She called, as calmly as possible. “No big deal!”

The counter bar squeaked open. “Abigail,” Pierre said, presumably stalking over to survey the damage, “How many times do I have to tell you to be careful when you’re stocking my shelves?” She rolled her eyes. “If those cans are dented- Oh!” He turned the corner into the aisle and stopped short of trampling the visitor, his glasses almost comically falling down the bridge of his nose.  
“Mr. Decker?” Pierre said with an awed expression.   
“You know this guy?” Abby said, more to the stranger than to Pierre. Pierre didn’t acknowledge her presence.  
“Oh! Um...” She watched as he jumped up with surprising gracefulness. “You can call me Daniel, sir.”  
“Daniel! Nice to meet you!” He gave Daniel his most dazzling smile. “I’m Pierre, owner Pierre’s general store- obviously.” He took the time to laugh at his own joke.   
“Nice to meet you. Sorry I didn’t come around and introduce myself sooner- I came down with a bad cold my first night in,” he smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. Abigail cringed when Pierre went in for a handshake and practically ripped the poor guy’s arm out of his socket.

“Not a problem! So long as you shop here from here on out, of course,” he beamed. “We could always use new customers, and you’re an extra special one. Would you need a basket, by any chance?” Before Daniel could open his mouth, he had shoved one into his hand. He looked just as bewildered as Abigail felt. He groveled to a lot of people, but she had never seen him suck up just this hard before.

“Well! So long as the mess has been resolved,” he sent a sidelong glance into the aisle past Abby, “I‘ll leave you to your shopping! And since I know you’re wondering, I’ll have a nice selection of seeds ready for you up front! I’ll be waiting...” He walked off slowly, glancing behind him as if star struck. 

_Seeds? So this is..._

“Is everyone in this town just a little bit insane?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.   
“So... You’re the new farmer.”   
He shrugged. “Sure.” _Oh. Good._ Abigail turned and pretended to survey the shelves. “...You don’t look like much of a farmer,” she said. “At least, maybe not a good one.” He looked to be around the same age as her, which was unfortunate. His ear and nose piercings, while pretty cool, didn’t mix with her idea of a farmer; and his choice in mixing combat boots with a plain white shirt somehow screamed both rebel and bore. And while he wasn’t thin, per se, he didn’t look like he had the proper build for farming.

Daniel ignored Abigail’s rudeness with ease. “I agree with you there,” he said. “Honestly, I didn’t know I would be here until last month. Didn’t realize I had such a huge job to do until last week. Or a job at all, really.” Abigail felt a sudden curiosity growing, but she swallowed it. He shrugged again. “So, I’m guessing that’s your boss?” 

She sighed. “Nah, that’s just my dad.” He scrutinized her face closely. She suddenly felt self-conscious of her overly pale face.  
“I see the resemblance,” he said seriously. “It’s in the hair.”   
She almost laughed. “Man. I’d love to see the day he dyes his hair purple.”   
“It’d be a good look, don’t you think?”  
“Horrible.” She gagged at the thought.  
“...Anyway. I’d better fill up this basket. Sorry about those cans.”  
She waved him off. “Whatever, dude.”   
She immediately went back to sulking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bit slow going, but I’m trying my best!


	3. Midnight Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex waits in fearful anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

That night, Alex knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. 

It was as if the celebration was still going on in his own room. He could still clearly hear clinking glasses, smell the overwhelming scent of alcohol, even feel Shane’s hostile eyes burning into his scalp. Haley had only dragged him into the Stardrop for less than 5 minutes (“Pleaaase? I cannot miss out on Gus’ mozzarella sticks!”), but with all the older people of the town “partying” for Yoba knows what reason, it felt like hours. And there was one person, sitting in their usual spot, having an excuse to drink more than usual... 

Grabbing his gridball and varsity jacket, he crept carefully from his room to the front door, avoiding the floorboards he knew would make the most noise. His grandparents worried too much about simple things; it was best that their sleep wasn’t interrupted. And when he stepped outside, Alex stumbled through the unlit path and made sure that the old dog was comfortably curled up in his box.

“It’s alright, boy,” he soothed when his wet nose twitched. He stuck his hand over the fence to touch him, but then thought better of it. Dusty, he knew, could be even worse.

The stars winked at him from overhead, but he hid from them under the tree closest to his house, setting down the gridball. Their playfulness was more unsettling than anything. And even though he was breathing in the warm spring air, his lungs were still feeling the cold of winter. The imaginary chill made him shiver, and he had to pull his jacket tighter around himself before he could start his warm-up. Even then, he couldn’t stop his fingers from trembling. 

His eyes locked on the trailer a few yards down the road. For now, it was dark; the only light he saw was the dim lamps of the Saloon across from it, and occasionally what he assumed was the glow of jellyfish from the river beside it. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that soon, the lights would flicker on all at once with a terrifying sound, like a giant flame after an explosion. Yoba, he wished he was wrong, that Pam would be too drunk to bother her; but he had a sense for these things. He knew the patterns, and he hadn’t been wrong once.

Alex was just about to start his pushups when he heard a roar pierce the dark. 

“PENNY!” She bellowed.  
“Shit...” Alex mumbled to himself, watching the lights from the trailer turn on at once. His blood began to boil, but he felt even more unsteady than before. From a few feet away, Dusty growled in his sleep. 

“WHY- -YOU- - I- - DARE- -“ he couldn’t make out the finer details of her speech, but he easily recognized the hostility. 

Damn it. He was right, but what could he do about it? Just listen? Why hadn’t he thought of anything to help? Why couldn’t his stupid body move? He was strong enough, he could just-

“LOOKAME!” If it was possible, Pam raised her voice even more. He couldn’t hear Penny’s replies at all, but he could just imagine how small she might have sounded, how fragile she might have looked at each verbal blow. He couldn’t lift his hands. 

While he was stuck firmly in place, he noticed a distant spiky-haired figure run out from behind a tree. He stopped just beside the trailer, and... 

“No!” Alex finally sprang into action, probably breaking his record sprint time. As he ran, Dusty barked aggressively.  
“Don’t do that!” Arriving at his destination out of breath, he placed a firm hand on the blond’s shoulder from behind, clearly startling him. If he tried to yell over Pam, he would just make things worse in the long run.

“What the hell, man?” Sam shoved his hand off without a second look at him.   
“PEN-“ Alex pulled him back. He couldn’t actually see more than Sam’s piercings clearly in the dark, but he could just make out the dangerous look on his face when he whirled around. 

“No! I’m serious, dude! Listen, just-“ 

Suddenly, the door to the trailer slammed open and shut again. Penny ran off in the direction of the river, sobs and her loose red hair trailing behind her.   
“Wait!” Sam chased after her, Alex completely forgotten. Pam was no longer yelling, but Dusty was making up for the sudden silence with his barking. He briefly wondered Pam had already passed out.

He made his way back to Dusty. 

Alex sat beside the enclosure, letting his dog give one last howl before reaching over and tapping him lightly on the snout. Dusty whined, fitting his front paw through the slats. Alex let his hand fall on top, looking dejectedly to the stars. His best friend did the same. 

“I’d tell you, boy, but I think we both already know.” 

_Drunks,_ they both agreed, _are the worst kinds of people._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last three chapters have basically been introductory, as well a warm up for me. I’ll get longer in the next few chapters and into the actual story! Hopefully things only go uphill! Hope you enjoy :)


	4. Good Pointlessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan has some encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my quarantine has been more stressful than I thought it would be (other than, you know, what’s happening outside). Oh well! I’m back again to climb this mountain :)
> 
> Oh, and super duper small non-consensual drug use references. Nothing serious, I just thought I should mention it.

The residents of Pelican Town were far too perfect not to be involved in a cult; and Daniel was sure the bartender had tried to induct him into it. He was feeling too unlike himself for something he drank not to be drugged.

The cottage stairs creaked as Daniel exhaustedly plopped down to open a pile of mail, something he hadn’t checked since his move. Nothing there from Cal or anyone else he’d ever known, but that oddly felt less like intense disappointment and more like he was seeing the weather; not that he was complaining. And, well, he never did say where he was going. He had to squint in the intense sunlight to read, something The Valley never seemed to lack, but today he found it somewhat more bearable on his head. The envelopes were filled with shop flyers, recipes, festival reminders, and small town chatter that he recognized almost exactly from his last visit to the Saloon, when he’d been surrounded by what seemed to be the entire population of the town... 

_-ow’s the farm why did you decide to move did you meet my son would you like some of the oh dear sorry haley let’s go your grandfather was a great man have you heard about the festival why didn’t we see you around were you at the funeral ahaha you’re hilarious-_

...Small towns were somehow more terrifying than big cities. 

Not that he had been serious before, but he didn’t actually drink anything then; Anything he drank that night entered his system after he’d left the Saloon.

Still, everything felt strange. He couldn’t think of any other way to explain why, as if he was being controlled by some unseen force, he had started to wake up at the ungodly hour of 6 am to the shrill sound of an alarm he didn’t remember setting; why, when he couldn’t possibly know where to find them, there were practically historic tools laid out by the door; and why, when labor was barely a word in his vocabulary, he’d grabbed them without hesitation to clear away the dense, overgrown land. Why did he do that? Just to bide the time? It felt like his body was trying to make the decision to stay in Pelican Town without any input from his brain. 

It was _unnatural._

But... more than any soreness or pain, he felt alright, or at least more okay than he had felt in a while- he didn’t have a good grasp on the scale. Well, it must’ve been good, maybe even fucking fantastic, considering he wasn’t thinking or caring about certain problems as much as was normal.

When he went into the dim farmhouse to drop the mail onto the dining table, jokingly considering the possibility that Gus, that saint, had spiked the gift bottle of vodka in his other hand, he decided that he was enjoying everything about this new mood. His dad might’ve been proud... Wasn’t this “getting it together?” Then again, proud might be too strong a word. 

Well, anyway. He had no idea what he was doing, what he was going to do, what he should do, but... his better mood was telling him to leave the farm that day, and he didn’t find any reason not to listen. He’d just go with it, for now. 

...Hey, did something in the fireplace just move?

———————

Daniel gave her points for trying, but Leah’s copy of Identifying Plants While Foraging was not helpful. It looked like she used it for art practice, with every word on the page penciled or occasionally painted over with images of the valley to match the printed vegetable. It was beautiful, though...

_“Excuse me.”_

“Holy sh-” He jumped back, one to narrowly dodge plowing straight into the dude wearing the raggedy Joja jacket, but also because he almost swore he saw some light blue _thing_ jump right at him. Gah, it was definitely something he saw in Leah’s art. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to walk and read on the path. 

“Uh... Sorry. Shane, right?” He recognized the hostile and unkempt man as someone Emily had forced to introduce himself. “I remember you from the Saloon. You were...” He didn’t know how to end that sentence in a friendly way. Shane gave him a scathing look. 

“I thought I told you to fuck off. Don’t talk to me.” <> ...a jerk. 

“Sorry?” He offered once more. His lip twitched involuntarily in something like amusement. 

Shane’s eyes blazed in anger. “Can you fuck off? I’m late to work.” 

Daniel shrugged and stepped onto the grass, hoisting his bag properly over his shoulder and tucking the book under his arm. “Well... See you later, I guess.” 

Something like a growl rose out of Shane’s throat, but he continued to slouch past the graveyard, not seeming in any kind of hurry. No doubt he was heading into that Jojamart Lewis spent half an hour lamenting, the only tragedy in a picturesque town.

Well. That was... something. 

“And... take a fucking breath mint or something.” Shane suddenly called behind him. 

“Thanks for the advice!” He called, but Shane was already gone.

Daniel chuckled at the familiarity. For some reason, the rude interaction had lifted his spirits a little bit more. He was a jerk, but he couldn’t hate him... He might even have liked him. From the moment he first saw him, Shane reminded him of someone- and though he couldn't remember the face or the name, he still recognized that person as at least a half-way decent friend. The guy was obviously all smoke, just someone worn down by those slavers at Joja. He was sure that was the only problem you could have in the embrace of a town like this. 

He popped a piece of gum into his mouth and mused on whether he’d be interested in starting an anti-Joja alliance.

——————

The sun was starting to fall lower in the sky, not so much that it was dark but just enough that it could cast artistic shadows through the trees. He shoved another leek into his bag, deciding it was almost time to prepare something to knock himself out. 

“Hello, dear!” Daniel‘s head snapped up, but he couldn’t see where the voice was coming from. “By the garden! Can I speak to you for a moment?” He turned toward the opposite end of the town square to see a kindly old woman waving at him with a gloved hand.

“Sure! I’ll be right over!” He called, and began to walk across the stone. 

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m all covered in dirt,” she said when he arrived. “Though I’m sure that isn’t new to you by now!”

“Maybe not, but it still surprises me every day,” he replied. “So... why are you covered in dirt? You’re not trying to steal my job, are you?” Huh. He said my. My job. He was sure he hadn't wanted to say it, but that last sentence simply popped into his mouth without going through his brain.

She laughed. “Oh no, I just take care of the flowers.” She pointed behind her to a box of stunning red tulips. He had to blink a few times when he looked at them; he swore for a second he was looking into a pair of eyes. “We had a bit of an emergency last week involving two kids and my grandsons dog, so I‘ve been coming out all day to make sure they were okay.“ 

He nodded, trying to shake a strange feeling that was creeping up on him and focus in on the conversation. “Yes! Of course!” Okay... now something was definitely moving in the tulips. He moved closer, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

“Everything okay, dear?” 

He shook his head. “Ah, sorry. I just thought I saw something in the tulips. I’ve been seeing things, lately.” That was the third time today... He guessed he was rotting his brain, or something. He shook his head, putting his hallucinations out of his mind. He shouldn’t let something small freak him out. “Well, anyway, I’m Daniel Decker, though I’m guessing you and everyone knows that.”

She chuckled. “Yes, yes I do,” Though her voice was brittle, it still had a singsong quality to it that Daniel instantly trusted. “I’m Evelyn, but you can call me Granny. We’ve met before, though you were much smaller!” 

“Sorry, I don’t remember...” 

“Oh, no worries! I doubted you would. Your grandfather brought you along all the time.” He braced himself for the incoming _where have you been all these years?,_ but it didn’t come. Instead, she said, “We were all quite close. So, I wanted to honor the old times and have you over for dinner with my family. I was thinking Saturday, the day after the egg festival. How does that sound?” 

A warm feeling worked through his body. Other than “in-law” family functions, he’d never been invited anywhere; and those were barely countable, seeing as including the one who dragged him along, there wasn’t a single soul who wanted him there. This was nothing short of foreign, maybe even suspicious, but something tugged at him to accept it. Where was the harm? “Alright, sounds great! I’ve got nothing on my schedule.” 

“Oh, wonderful! You’re in for a treat! Have you met my grandson, Alex? About this tall, brown hair, very cheery, just brimming with enthusiasm about gridball?” She punctured her speech with enthusiastic gesticulations. “He wasn’t around when you were little, so you wouldn’t recognize him.” 

Daniel had a hard time sifting through the plethora of people he’d been forced to memorize in a day. “Does he... wear a varsity jacket? A green one?” He didn’t mention that the guy seemed a little self-absorbed the last few times he’d seen him and his model girlfriend. 

“Yes! That would be him. So you have met him?” 

“I saw him briefly, but we didn’t speak to each other or anything.”

“Well, we’ll have to rectify that!” She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and looked to the sky. “Later, of course. I have to get going now. I have to make everyone their dinner or else there will be a giant mess in our kitchen. It was nice to meet you again, Daniel!” 

“It was nice to meet you too... uh, Granny.” "I'll see you over the weekend!" She grabbed a basket of tools and was off, heading in the direction of a dog pen. He watched her go.

You know... he didn’t have grandparents growing up. Not that it mattered, but...

Was all this "okay-ness" just life giving him a second chance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I had to make some edits for mistakes I didn't notice before... I copied over the wrong version of a document here >.<


	5. Just Move On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome! Hope all is well!

"So your total would be...” Robin leaned over the counter, noisily punching some numbers into the calculator. Daniel waited patiently, hands in his pockets, casually surveying the shop. Except for a lamp, register, and room plans sitting off to the side of the counter, every item seemed to be made from wood- handmade, in fact. He didn’t know much about woodwork, but even he could tell that everything in it was practically perfect, molded to flawlessness by what seemed like pure devotion alone. Compared to his farm, where everything was half-assed and ugly, this work was godly. With the passion her eyes and fiery hair conveyed, he didn’t have to think for long to know it was all Robin’s...

Looking at it all sent a strange pain through his chest that he couldn’t recognize, so he pulled out a packet of gum and forced himself to be invested in picking a piece. He refused to think... which was somehow easier than he'd ever thought possible. 

Robin suddenly paused. “Oh no,” she muttered. “What’s wrong?” Daniel leaned over to see the screen.

“Hold on, I can fix this,” she said, turning away from him. The clicking grew faster.

“What is it?” He tried looking over her shoulder, but couldn’t catch a glimpse of what had her in a frenzy. “Come on, just lay it on me. I promise I can take it.” 

“Well...” she jabbed her fingers into the machine once more. Finally, she sighed and turned back to the counter. “Alright, here. I did everything I could, I swear, but this is what it came out to.” She placed the calculator on the table as if it were a bomb. 

Daniel stared blankly at the price. “That’s what it’ll cost? The bathroom?” Robin nodded, her face as pale as if she was being held at gunpoint. After a brief moment, he just shrugged. 

“Alright, well, the price isn’t what I expected, but I can do it,” he replaced the gum and reached into his other pocket for his checkbook. The bathroom was second on the list of things he needed to survive, so he had no complaints; if he was staying, he had to make things work. Sure, it was expensive as hell, but he hated discounts and never cared for having money. 

Robin's face regained a little color. “Really? You’re sure? Even after repairing the main room?”

“Yep, not a problem. Can I borrow a pen?” he asked. "Of course!" she said. She grabbed something from behind the register, which turned out to be a clear cup filled with miscellaneous wacky writing utensils. He set his sights on a long, multicolored pen with a strangely disproportionate bear when she abruptly yanked the cup away. She looked at him suspiciously.

“Daniel... Didn’t you say you worked a ‘lowly office job’ for Joja?” 

“Uh... yes?” She froze, her head slowly moving up to meet his eyes. He didn’t like the sudden piercing look she was giving him, a blood-chilling stare that reminded him of his mother. He swallowed. “Can I have a pen?” He made a reserved motion towards them.

She ignored his question, leaning now somewhat threateningly over the counter. For such a small person, she suddenly seemed very tall. "Not that I'm assuming, but I didn't think Joja workers of any kind were paid very much. How did you ever manage to save so much?" Her gaze was sharp, making it seem as though her face had transformed into a weapon. It was like the warm and cheerful Robin vanished in an instant.

"I..." He didn't know how to respond. He never liked being questioned. He felt like he was melting. No, freezing. No, melting... Where was he again?

“Mhmm...” She said at last, drawing her conclusion from the silence. She nodded, displeased. “Okay, put away that checkbook. I will not let you pay for this if it’s going to be hard on you. You’re young, you need to think about these things!” She scolded.

“Robin, it’s fine! I swear!" She made a noise of disbelief. "...Either way, I kinda need a working bathroom. And if you do it, you need to get paid! I really wouldn't want to shortchange you.”

“Don't worry about it,” Robin said. “We'll make an arrangement the day of." She said it with finality that shut down any further argument. "Like I say all the time to my oldest, you have to care about your future.” 

"...I guess you make a lot of sense,” he conceded, but though he understood he was feeling some sort of defiance at those words. He felt like he’d just been lectured, and lectured into cheating someone, no less.

“Plus,” she cracked a smile, “You would be mistaken to refuse my service, Danny. Can I call you that?"

He made sure to smile back, albeit a bit nervously. "Uh... S-" They both jumped when a door slammed behind them, a noise like canon fire in the otherwise peaceful morning.

"Christ!" Robin cried. She nearly spilled her pens. The disturbance was eerily sudden; he hadn't heard the wood creaking, nor the sound of footsteps that designated another presence. He barely even saw the light from the door shine on the back wall. Somehow, he felt warm air caress his cheek.

Other than the initial door slam, Robin didn't seem as concerned. "Apologies, that must be my son Sebby heading to the fair. I wanted him to _formally_ meet you, but he left around... Wait a minute..." she glanced at the clock. "Huh, that's funny. I thought he left earlier." She shook her head. "Oh well, I won't be taking any more of your time," she pulled a thick and disarrayed notebook out from under the counter. "Our business is done. I'll just take the time to log everything and you can go on your way and enjoy yourself. Maybe meet up with Sebby and his friends? I think you’d all work well together.” As she talked, he surveyed the room for a second time. Something felt different after the front door slammed. Like there was an extra presence, an extra pair of eyes on him. He couldn’t be sure, but he was certain that tiny green stuffed toy hadn’t been sitting in that chair before... He swore he was looking right at it a moment ago, bare and empty, admiring the handiwork. Yoba, he was beginning to suspect he might need to go to the doctor after all.

"Well... Alright." he said, turning away from the wooden chair. Right, he had to figure out a way to repay Robin. Or even actually pay her. But he guessed that would come after this fair everyone was buzzing about... "Actually, I'm sorry for taking up your time. You did say you usually closed shop on these kinds of days, right?"

"Yeah, well, you're a special case! Your new home's no Community Center, but I still wouldn't wish for anyone to be living under that crusty roof for long... Don't worry about me, I'll be out in a few!”

“Thank you and sorry anyways. See you later!" He turned to leave. 

"Wait! Is that yours?"

_________________________  
"I mean, I get being mad at him, I just don't understand why you insist on calling him by his actual name. It's kinda weird, dude." Abigail shot Sam an exasperated look. 

"Look, I told you already. I'm completely done with everything. At this point, I can barely leave the house! I thought things would get better, but after all these years..." She sighed, taking the paper plate Sebastian handed to her. "Well, you know. Plus, I'm an adult, and he treats me like a _child,_ and not even his child. Like he was forced to pick me up off the street or something." She grabbed a boiled egg right off the platter and bit into it, ignoring Haley's indignant glare from across the table.

"I'm pissed at my mom, too, but I don't go around calling her _Robin."_ Sebastian winced as the name fell of his tongue. "Feels weird just saying it." 

Abigail cringed when she felt Sam's energy as he practically skipped in front of the pack to their usual spot by the lampposts, grinning and waving when they passed his younger brother, Vincent. "If I called my mom by her first name, I think all my teeth would fall out," he said, now jogging backwards. 

"Dude, if you make me drag you to Harvey's again, I'm not gonna back up whatever story you come up with to impress anyone," Sebastian warned. 

"You don't have the guts to betray me like that," he taunted. After a few more feet, he stumbled. 

"Sam..." He handed off his plate to Abby.

"H-hey, I did that on purpose!" Sam shrieked as Seb moved in to poke his side. "NO! I'll stop! I'll stop!"

"Yeah, well, our situations are wildly different." Abigail said when they'd sat down. "You never told us what that whole thing was about..." she glanced at him to see that he was as stone as ever,"...but I’m sure you and your mom will be close again by the end of the day. She’s awesome. This is different, built up over a really, really long time. Plus, you know dads..." Both boys stared blankly at her. "Sorry, wrong wording. That's not what I meant. I mean, my dad..." She shook her head, abandoning the thought. Sebastian rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. "You're fine," he said.

"Anyway, I've got to focus on kicking ass in the egg hunt again this year!” Sam groaned and dramatically fell back onto the grass. "Can you have mercy on the children just this once?"

Abigail rolled her eyes. "We both know Vincent and Jas don't care that much, and it’s not my fault you got distracted last time." 

"I forgot my meds! You're heartless! Seb, tell her she's heartless." Sam lightly shoved him to get his attention. He didn't look up. 

"You're heartless," He said flatly. He sighed and typed something into his phone. He looked incredibly pained.

"Well, this is a new record. I think he wants to get out of civilization already, Abby."

"I'm answering an email, asshole. Don't you dare start that anti-social crap up again." 

"You should join," Abby said. "You won't win, but it could be fun. Haley gave up, which means Alex is dropping it, too. It would be different!" 

"And try to compete against Maru? Yeah, no thanks."

"Well, whatever. This is basically the only happy thing in my life I have left, and I'm going to enjoy it." She breathed in the fresh egg-filled air. While the liveliness of the town might be giving Sebastian a headache, she was embracing it. Sure, the grass was too green for her tastes, the sun a little too blinding, the decorations a little too pastel and cheerful. But, soon she would be going out on a quest... A quest she could complete in seconds. And, far behind the beautiful buffet Gus was in charge of, her dad was locked behind his stall, entertaining himself by selling his useless goods. If there was ever anything that she looked forward to each spring, it was sweet, sweet victory. At least she had this one last escape. 

"Looks like you were right, Abby, it will be different," Sam said. She followed his gaze to the center of town, but her view was obstructed by a gathering of people by the mayor. "What are you talking about?" 

"Gah, now I've really got no chance!" Sam cried. "What? Why?" Abby said. The crowd began to part. "That cool farmer dude is joining the egg hunt, too."

She felt her body begin to crumble from the inside. 

""Cool?' That guys doesn't have an ounce of cool!" Her voice rose an octave. Sam shrugged. "He seemed pretty cool when he dropped by my house the other day."

"Are you nervous?" Sebastian finally looked up from what he was doing. "No way!" Abigail defended. "Who said I was nervous? I'll bury his ass in the graveyard!" Sebastian didn't look convinced. He looked at her seriously. "I mean, you shouldn't be. You've beat out all the competition before, right?" His dark eyes were comforting, but she still felt panicky. "It'll be okay." 

Yeah, that's right. _There's no way,_ she tried to convince herself. _There's no way he could win. _Sure, he may be cool and confident and speedy and well liked by everyone but that had nothing to do with egg hunting. There was nothing else he could take from her. Right?__

____

____

"Contestants!" Lewis called. "We're going to begin the egg hunt!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to have a regular upload schedule every Saturday. I welcome feedback! Hopefully people are still following... but whether you are or aren't, remember that you are beautiful and I love you.


	6. Love Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex meets Dan, and Dan meets something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I've been gone for a while! So here, have this long chapter.

" _Come on_ Alex, just one more picture? Please?" Alex groaned and threw himself back onto the grass. Haley stood a few feet away by a stump, holding her ancient camera despairingly in her smooth hands as Alex pretended to collapse from exhaustion and excruciating boredom. "If I have to do another stupid pose, I'm going to throw myself into this lake." Distantly, some of the cows from Marnie's ranch seemed to moo in agreement.

Haley pouted. "It'll take a minute, I promise!" 

“You know I have to go... Don’t you have enough already?" Now that he was laying down, he realized how in pain he was. He wasn't normally someone who burned easily, but he guessed that even in spring, the sun would burn the hell out of you if you stayed out too long. The location wasn't doing him any good, either. His eyes burned at the near-sight of the bright red roof in his peripheral, and he was beginning to feel the dock boring holes into his back. Bad memories.

She batted her eyelashes and purred, "You're just _such_ a good subject that I _can't_ stop taking pictures of you."

"You can't flatter me with something we both know already, Hales." He rolled his eyes. It suddenly occurred to him that grass, dirt, and excessive pollen might be ruining his hair. "Anyway," he said, patting his jeans of green as he painstakingly stood, "the last time you said one minute was what, an hour ago? We've been shooting forever! I didn't do nearly as many pushups as I wanted to this morning, and I won't have time tonight," he complained. He groomed his appearance in the clear lake surface, watching as Haley arrived to complete it. After a whole day of work, Haley still looked as perfect as always... Perfectly manicured nails, a new outfit, and not a hair nor wrinkle where there shouldn't be. As for him, well, even as a reddish mess he looked good, of course he would- but he hoped he would at the very least have time to re-gel his hair when he got home...

"I'll make it short! I can't waste this angelic lighting. Can you stop admiring yourself in the lake? Al-ex..." She pleaded when he groaned again. "If you want to be a star, you have to be patient with the camera, you know." 

"Yeah, well... Last time I checked, you weren't my photographer."

"You're right. A mere photographer wouldn't pack your breakfast. Or lunch. Or _snacks_ ," Haley said. "I've even got dinner packed. No, a photographer would never to that." She daintily lifted her skirt in a royal curtsy, clearly proud of herself. 

"They wouldn't hold me hostage, either," Alex added.

"Hostage? What do you _mean_ by that? This isn't new, we virtually spend everyday together anyway!" 

"Sure. But..." Haley visibly deflated.

After a calculated moment, she burst, "Ugh! Okay, whatever. If you insist, flake out on your best friend!" and threw her hands up in defeat. The camera hung dejectedly from her neck. "I see how _important_ I am to you." Haley's eyes took their usual icy form, but he wasn't phased by her bluff. After dramatically flipping her blond hair over her shoulder, she stomped to their patchy mess of a blanket by the forest edge, her form somehow followed by errant rays of sunlight. _Angelic._ "Go! See if I care!" After a few more steps, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. He chuckled knowingly. "Better you than my grandma!" He called before following.

She didn't give him a second glance, causing him to roll his eyes. She wasn't mad; she just had a flair for the dramatic no other girl could top. Still... 

"You know you’re the best, right?” 

“Mhmm.”

"Aaand… That you're, _objectively,_ the most attractive person in this town?"

"...Go on..."

"And, that theoretically, if I could go back in time..." he began deviously.

"Nope, never mind." She said quickly. 

“Whatever," he laughed, nearly stumbling over a half-empty water bottle. "Either way... Just so you know, I would've stayed if I didn't have to go to this dinner she set up with the farmer. He seems really cool and all, but I would rather be with you."

"I know," she sighed, leaning down to scoop equipment off the blanket. "You know I’m just kidding. I just really wanted to work on this in particular..."

"What happened to your wildlife collection? Or those... landscapes or something? Can't you work on that?" He slowly gathered scattered food containers.

"Yeah, I guess. I wanted to do something different, though. Plus, I didn't really feel like going home to my weird-ass sister.” She said. "But, whatever! Have fun being besties with the guy you didn't know existed until yesterday." 

"Hey! I didn't _mean_ to, I dunno, ignore his existence, I just don't have... what did Grandma call it? 'An eye for the finer details,' or something."

"The _finer_ details?" Haley's lip quirked up. "Ha. Just don't abandon me, 'kay?" She suddenly turned and reached up for a quick hug, made slightly awkward by the camera coming between them. "Maybe tell him hi for me? He's kinda cute. Different, maybe, but cute. Other than his clothes, of course. But I know a fun way to fix that problem..."

"Haley!" She burst out laughing.

  


On his way home, he stuck closely to the left of the path, as was usual on the rare days he had to walk home from Marnie's ranch when the sun fell behind the horizon. The right side was Shane's and Shane's alone, as they had a silent mutual agreement to stay out of each other's way as much as possible. Even a glance would be a fatal mistake on either of their parts. Though, when he saw Jas skipping down the road beside him, her small limbs usually trying to carry a book larger than her head, he couldn't help but look back after they had passed. It was funny, he remembered looking up to him a long time ago...

As he got closer to his house, he saw the shape of what must've been the farmer leaning into Dusty's pen. Damn, was he late? Oh well, it didn't matter- all he had to do was aim to impress. Though he was a newer resident himself, he and his grandparents were great at being welcoming. Well, mostly him and Grandma, but nobody could really hold much against Grandpa for long. Looked like he wasn't going to be able to gel his hair, but it was one dinner, and between guys...

"Hey!" Alex called. His voice clearly startled him, because the guy jumped and _squeaked_ before turning slightly over his shoulder. The street lamps were slow to come on, so his face was obscured by the descending darkness, but he amused himself with an imagined expression. 

He recovered quickly. "Oh, hey," His shadow replied calmly. "Sorry, I came a little early. Alex, right?" Alex took his place on the fence next to him, looking in to see a shape that he assumed was Dusty shaking with excitement. _Sorry boy. Didn't mean to leave you here all day._ "Yep. And that big guy who I assume was just slobbering over your hand is Dusty. Here, boy," He panted as he bounded a step over to Alex for a generous scratch behind the ears, which Alex enthusiastically gave.

"Oh! Sorry, I should've asked if I could touch him. It's not the first time, either," He admitted. "Even considered stealing him. I've never had a dog before, so I get a little excited when I see one..." Slowly, Alex could hear the lamps somewhere behind them began to click on.

"No big deal! Dusty probably needs the attention." Dusty's whole body shook with the power of his tail. "He gets jealous 'cause I steal it all, you know?"

He sensed the farmer's disbelief. "Yeah. Like anyone could take the attention away from _that_!"

"No, seriously!" Alex said. "If I lived any place but here, I don't think I would be left alone."

"...Sure,” said the farmer. He once again reached towards the mass of fur, practically piercing himself on the fence as he stretched to reach Dusty's back. The rascal let out a powerful boof as the last light flipped on, prompting a strange and brief laugh from the farmer as it fully bathed his brown fluffy face in a soft yellow glow. “Though, no offense, I've already chosen the dog." 

"None taken, since you're a dude. So long as you don't actually steal him," Alex clarified, then, "Though I don't think you'd stand a chance against me." He chuckled. Alex turned towards the farmer to say something more, but with a sudden dull ache the words died on his tongue. He immediately felt strange- a little clammy, with a little pull in his chest he only recognized from his times on the gridball team in high school. 

It occurred to him, now that the lights were on, that this was the first time he'd seen the farmer up close, and _very_ clearly. He seemed to be the kind of guy he wouldn't understand- like Sebastian, except with a nose piercing and a second earring and a button-down shirt and actually he seemed nicer and on second thought, not like Sebastian at all. He tried to shrug off the new feeling, but heat kept rising within him, gripping his chest and stopping his tongue. What was it? Maybe it was because this guy was taller, or something? Yeah, that was it... He didn't like having to look up to meet his eyes. Just a leftover from high school. It didn't make sense for a guy like Alex, but he remembered Penny saying something like, _sometimes feelings never do_. 

“Were you saying something?” The farmer said, propping his arms onto the fence. It was definitely from Haley's influence, but when they met eyes, he was reminded of hot cocoa. Dusty whimpered below, and Alex wished he would go back to petting him instead of looking at Alex. He realized he didn’t even know his name.

"Oh, yeah! It was..." Though his hair seemed to go stylistically un-brushed, Alex suddenly felt self-conscious of his own flattened spikes. Damn, how visible was his burn right now? Why did it matter? He quietly pulled himself together. "Nice going at the egg festival. You finally beat Abigail!"

"So I did!" He chuckled. "I didn't think it was such a big deal. I feel kind of bad about it now, though. She seemed really upset..." 

"Oh, don't feel bad! I wouldn't," He said. He felt a strong need to reassure him. "She was just being a sore loser. She's not used to losing one of those things, y'know? Easy to be dramatic that way. You really stuck it to her, man."

"I guess if you want to look at it that way?" Alex didn't understand his meaning. In one smooth motion, the farmer pushed himself off the fence into standing position. "Well. Could we...?"

"Oh, yeah!" He'd almost forgotten why they were there. Making a promise of extra love to the retreating giant, Alex started off towards the door, motioning for him to follow. "Just a warning- I love my grandfather, but he's a little cranky sometimes. My grandma's great, though," he said, placing his palm on the golden handle. 

"I'm sure he's not that bad," the farmer said behind him. He hoped he stuck around long enough for him to learn his name.

\------------------  


He secured the piece of yellowed paper in his pocket, putting any concern he felt with it. Well, he definitely wouldn't be able to decipher the strange note now- but it was already fading from his internal to-do list. After all, the silly, gibberish thing from the carpenter's shop was probably just that. No, no matter how many times he looked it over or thought about it, it was not going to turn out to be significant; It definitely wasn't from that small green creaure- toy- that he no doubt imagined in its place, and the fact that it was addressed to him could mean any number of things. He was silly to feel so strongly towards it, especially when he had more pressing matters to concern himself with...

"Welcome!" With a face as painfully red as a clown's nose, Alex held his arms out in a grand gesture as Daniel walked inside.

Daniel closed the door behind him as he entered, stifling a sigh of relief. He was beginning to think he would suffocate if he had to spend another moment alone with Alex. Previously, he'd already gotten the feeling he was a little less grounded than the rest; After Evelyn had told him Alex was her grandson, he found himself strangely aware of him on days off his grandfathers farm, mostly his time spent with his judgmental girlfriend or near the lone tree doing some kind of exercise that he found ludicrous, having never given serious thought to exercise himself. This short time had only proven his feelings correct. Though Alex had a perpetual friendly smile plastered on his face, Daniel got the feeling that and his words were more aimed at himself and his muscles than anyone else- his name didn't even seem part of Alex's vocabulary. But, to look on the positive side of things, this dinner had intense promise, and he had to admit he was pretty excited. Oh, and the dog! That dog was _quality._

The first thing that hit Daniel as he took another step were the various sounds. Everything sounded so close to him, jumping one on top of the other in a competition to be heard. There was a show blaring from a TV, the clanging of pots and pans, boiling water, an A/C unit... To anyone else it might've been overwhelming, but it was practically music to Daniel's ears. "Grandma?" Alex called over the noise. They walked further inside, and Daniel meandered a little to take in his surroundings. He was drawn in by the welcoming aroma of a fresh batch of cookies, and then a mixture of other ones he couldn't distinguish. The warm, dark paneled walls and conflicting antique decorations exuded coziness, and he liked how the floor creaked beneath him at every step. It was neat, but not perfectly orderly, not like the Cottage Tragedy, as Robin had taken to calling it, but not like the word of a meticulous maid. He also liked how, similar to the lights outside, the lights were dim rather than unfathomably bright. "Grandma!" Alex called again, louder this time, standing by the doorway to an adjacent room.

"Oh, good! You're right on time!" From the wooden doorway to the left, Evelyn popped her delighted face into the room. "Come in, boys! I was just taking out the casserole." With a gloved hand, she ushered them inside. "Woah! This is amazing, Grandma," Alex said, practically salivating. She seemed to have been hard at work; She was wearing a checkered pink and red apron lightly dusted over with some flour and splattered with batter, and the worn countertops next to him were covered in various food and baked desserts. It was... "Thanks for having me over, Evelyn. You really didn't have to go all out like this..." It left him in awe. He felt embarrassment creeping up his neck. He hadn't seen this much food prepared in a long time, and it was never this special; the last times were when he was a teenager, still attending family dinner. 

"Oh, but for you, of course I did!" She smiled broadly. "I didn't know your favorite, so I had to make the whole menu. And call me Granny," she said in her kind way, causing Daniel's face to heat up. She half-turned to Alex. "Dear, could you set the table for me? Food and all, please." About to turn away, she at once jumped back, her voice raising an octave. "Oh, dear, did you get sunburned again?"

"Don't worry about it," he said loudly, "I'll have a nice tan in no time."

"But... but dear, you know it's not good if you-"

"C'mon, I'll be fine! It happens."

"I just don't want... And your _skin,_ sweetheart-"

" _Grand_ -ma..."

"Alright, alright." She conceded, but silent worries were visible on the wrinkles in her forehead. "I'm going to see if I can get your grandfather unglued to the TV. I'll be right back!"

"Sure thing!" said Alex, and walked over to an open cabinet to grab some plates. Daniel followed. "I'll help," he said, but Alex replied, "Don't worry about it. Sit down and relax, man." He nodded towards the clothed table squeezed between three of the four kitchen's walls. 

He quickly blocked Daniel when he tried to reach for something anyway. "Hey, when I get famous, you can tell everyone that Alex Mullner served you," he pronounced, then laughed obnoxiously. Rudeness he could handle, but he wasn't sure what to make of this. If it weren't for the fact that it would be obvious, Daniel would've drunken something stronger before he left.

Daniel groaned internally. "Famous, huh?" he tried to keep his tone moderately interested, begrudgingly obliging to sit at the table. Though the table could seat four people, two on each side, it seemed to be missing a chair at the end. He assumed there was probably an extra chair around there somewhere, but regardless he sat next to the empty spot, closest to the back wall.

"Yep," Alex set a flowery plate in front of him. "I'm gonna go pro for gridball. I'm pretty good, so it's only a matter of time," he said. He nearly dropped a large bowl of salad. "Cool, right?" 

"Wow." When Alex said something else, he pulled out his phone and intently scrolled between the two pages of his home screen. 

"Yeah," When Alex was done setting the table, the sturdy thing nearly buckling under the weight of heavy ceramic dishes and bursting aluminum containers, he plopped down on the chair across from him and stretched his arms behind his neck, carefully avoiding the abstract art piece he called his hair. "You could play me if you want, but you don't seem the sporty type." _Oh my Yoba._

"Actually, I-" 

"Good to see you two getting along!" Evelyn bustled into the kitchen, startling the phone out of Daniel's hand and onto the edge of the table. "George will be over in a minute, he just insists on finishing his program." _Thank Yoba._ The dishwasher groaned as she pulled it open and pulled out serving utensils.

"Who's that?" Alex said. 

"Hmm?"

"Alex, dear, please take off your jacket at the table." Alex shrugged it off without moving his head away from him. 

"Your lockscreen," he continued, placing his green jacket on the back of his chair and revealing a green t-shirt underneath. With a startling realization, he saw his eyes were green as well. _Well, fuck me,_ he realized, looking down at his similarly colored shirt, _we match._ "Just curious."

He picked up the device, trying to figure out what he was talking about. _Oh._ He hadn't properly used his phone in so long he'd forgotten the lock screen belonged to Cal, a cropped version of a picture Cal forced him to be in. Oh well. He'd change it later. "Oh, that picture. Sorry, I wasn't sure what you were talking about for a minute. That's just..." As he spoke, an unusual throbbing pain began to work it's way through his brain, slowly at first, but building up enough pressure to stop his mouth in it's tracks. It lingered a minute, then retreated, as if it had leaked from a crack in some unseen wall behind his eyes. Weird. At once, he had the overwhelming feeling that there were eyes on him. "Right. That's..." he tried again, but on the word the pain began to work itself through his head again. A hand seemed to reach inside his skin and squeeze his skull, pinning his tongue to the floor of his mouth. He shook his head, trying to shake it off, but it didn't go away. "That was my-" he tried to push through, but it spiked; His vision doubled, and he gritted his teeth, suppressing the cry that threatened to spill out. His hand flew to his head, as if to stop the battering ram being taken to his insides. What the hell was this? 

"Are you okay?" Alex looked mildly alarmed. _Yes. Yes, of course you are._ He quickly took a few breaths, the effects of whatever murder headache that was receding as suddenly as it came.

"Ah, yeah." He replied, trying not to let his voice give way to confusion and concern. "Just a sudden headache, that's all." He thought he had enough beer to function perfectly- but then again, that was no headache he'd ever felt. He wasn't really sure it was a headache at all. _But you can't let that bother you._

"...Alright. We have-"

"Bah, I'm here, I'm here," a gruff voice called. Daniel picked up his phone from the table and shoved it deep into his pocket, cringing when he realized it must've crushed the note he completely did not care about at all. A withered and wheelchair-bound man rolled in, taking the empty spot next to him. "Can't even watch a darn TV program..." George grumbled. "Hey, grandpa," Alex said. George acknowledged him with a nod of his head, continuing to mumble under his breath. Daniel smiled nervously, but he was ignored. Great. So this was _Evelyn's_ family? When he was near Alex, at least his arrogance was still somehow warm- but the longer George sat beside him, the more cold he felt, like he was walking into a freezer full of corpses waiting to snap at him. He didn't believe Alex when he'd given warning, but... He was made eerily aware that he was now trapped next to him until the dinner was over.

"Serve yourselves, everyone! George?" Evelyn prompted, placing a clinking pitcher of water on the table. 

"Yes?" She gave him a meaningful look. "Wha- Oh." He turned his shriveled head and made stone cold eye-contact with Daniel. "Bah." he said disapprovingly.

"Well... Nice to meet you," he tried.

"Hmph. It's irritating to have to meet all these new people."

"He's not necessarily new, George. He's been here before! He's Arthur's grandson." Evelyn pulled out her chair. 

"Hmm... Yes, that's right. Good man. How old are you?"

"Huh? Uh, 25."

"Cool, you've got two years on me," Alex said, which somehow seemed to please him. 

"Hm." George seemed to have made a decision, though what decision Daniel could not tell. He said nothing more, instead taking issue with his empty plate. He bowed his head slightly. "Grace. Alex, pass the fish." Daniel decided to do the same, grabbing a giant spoon and loading up his plate with a little bit of everything it had to offer. "Take extra lasagna!" Granny grinned ecstatically as he obeyed. If he couldn't enjoy company, at least he could enjoy the food. He rubbed his temples and took a quiet breath. Not according to his dreams, but everything was fine. This was good.

They ate in relative silence for the first few moments, clinking silverware barely heard over the TV still on in the other room. George continued to grumble to himself between bites, grumpy wrinkles becoming more defined by the moment. In between wishing the air conditioning would turn off and trying not to drool over his dish, he noticed Alex glancing at him between large bites of casserole. He wondered what he was sizing him up for.

"Do you need anything?" Alex finally asked. Evelyn nodded approvingly.

"Um... No." he asserted. 

"Dear, since you're offering, could you grab the cocoa from-" 

" _Uh-huh!_ " With a sudden scrape of his chair, Alex got up and dissapeared from the room. "And I also completely forgot the..." drawers opened and closed in the entryway.

Nobody else took notice of his strangeness, but then, of course they'd lived with him for... Actually, how long had they lived with him? "So, what are you growing on the farm? And, more importantly, are you enjoying it?" Granny gently dabbed a napkin around her mouth. The drawers stopped, but Alex didn't re-enter the room.

"Uhh, parsnips, to answer the first question," he said, "It's kind of the easiest thing, actually, and even then I'm shocked that they're alive. I'm afraid I'll kill anything else." he ended his sentence with a forced laugh.

"Sorry to hear that, dear," she said sympathetically, "though I'm certain nothing of the sort would happen if you did!" George made a noise of either agreement or dissent; he couldn't tell, though either way it somehow felt unkind.

"Anyway, I guess it has it's ups and downs, like anything," he said. "It's not what I expected when I came here, but... I have become _damn_ good at picking stuff off the ground. Foraging, I mean," he said, hoping they'd excuse his language, "Like leeks and such."

"Oh, George loves leeks! You should teach Alex to gather some, so he could bring something home for George every once in a while. Though, he isn't home often..."

"Bah, he gives me enough." He said. "I don't expect him to do anything for me. He's a respectable kid. And farming is a respectable profession." He barely gave Daniel time to process his compliment before his face turned sour. "Not many your age are willing to do anything respectable anymore. No, not at all." George slowly shook his head. As he wallowed in his immense disapproval, Daniel noticed a shift in the air. He abruptly recalled the dining table in his father's home, and how while it was a lot longer, it looked almost exactly like the one he sat under; they somehow shared the same unwelcoming quality he was now registering as encompassing the room. _You know it's not that bad._

"Sure..." He said uncertainly. George made another unusual noise.

"Just a few minutes ago, I watched them ruin my favorite program by having a wedding between two young _men_."

His breathing went shallow.

"Ah..." He said, and gripped his fork. The remaining dishes now looked about a appetizing as a bowl of maggots, and his insides were already writhing with them. Before his eyes, the place was transforming- or even dissapearing from his view. Something was creeping into his skull again, that throbbing pain, twisting, poking, and squeezing itself into whatever was available, though for now it only lingered- And he was a kid again, living in that stuffy house, holding his breath in either anger or fear until it seemed he would finally die.

 _Now George,_ Evelyn began dissaprovingly, but the words were becoming foreign and strange. _We're with a guest, there's no need..._ the old man's voice echoed something, but it was covered by _-Shameful... Unnatural..._

He slowly lost the exchange of words, letting it fade into a pool of sound, TV, footsteps, floorboards, A/C, until at last it all began to dissolve into a disruptive ringing in his head. Everything that came out of their mouths was void, void and green. A proud voice spilled into the mix, reminding him _We don't need to go back to_ his _farm._ What was he doing here? Why hadn't he- but the presence took hold and clogged his thoughts, binding them as it had bound his tongue. No, this wasn't right. This wasn't what he would normally be feeling--! An invisible hand gently wrapped around his neck. His mouth was dry.

__

__

He couldn't bring the room back into focus. "Oh," he said, pretending to look at his phone, which only spread the heavy tormentor faster. "It's already..." he swallowed. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he knew he had to get out of there. Three people were looking at him, dumping invisible words at him that he couldn't see over the ringing. He read one. _Dear?_ "Thank you," he said, _Damnit, stop it, stop it, what the fuck is this_ "I have to get going." He mumbled something about a next time, and they rang something back. Then he took a few steps and his head exploded in pressure and stars, and he was under the moon somewhere, unable to breathe and writhing in pain.

  
And then: _Everything is fine. You are fine._ It was coming from his thoughts, but it didn't sound like him- yet, he knew he'd heard it before. But, as he listened... it was right. Yes, everything was fine. Instantly the ringing stopped, and the claw went back into its hole, stopping the torment of his sensitive insides, as if it'd never been at all.

When his eyes refocused, he was able to see that he was laying in front of the Community Center, concealed by darkness and unusually tall grass and flowers. He buzzed with static, and he stood up, trying to shake it off of himself. He couldn’t remember why he was there, but he felt something calling him to the door—

"EEP!" A small mouse-like cry came from somewhere below. He looked around, about to dismiss it as the strange sounds of nature when he heard a shrill squeal- which was quickly followed by a small poke in his side. He looked down and choked. "What the-"

Hanging from his pants was a tiny, wailing blue thing similar to the green one he recognized from the carpenter shop- except this one was glowing. It squealed again, flailing the three limbs that weren't gripping the edge of his jean pocket. "Holy fuck!" It took a second for him to fully process that he was seeing. Was it some kind of niche rodent? 

"Okay, so this is weird, this is REALLY weird, please get off me!" Daniel tried to move away, which was obviously fruitless. The limbed apple said something he didn't understand and jabbed him harder in the side. "Ow! Your arms are sharp- Ow!" He stared into its beady black eyes as it made wild gestures with its free arm, speaking incomprehensibly. “Oh, Yoba. Don’t tell me you need help down..." It bobbed its body, leafy stem pointed straight in fear. "Oh, no," he repeated, and he hesitantly put his palm out. He braced himself for an attack- but to his surprise, what he thought was going to be a solid, teething mass was like air. He gingerly lowered it to the ground. Was this proof that he was hallucinating?

It took no time in darting through the grass behind him. “What the fuck? What the hell are you?” He called to nobody. He hoped nobody ventured here in the middle of the night, to see him talking to himself...

Evidently, though, it hadn’t actually left him yet. A shrill, garbled voice drew steadily towards him, and he didn't have to move from his crouched position to see a lamp dragging his paper-covered phone through the dirt.

They both stopped and blinked, locked in a momentary staring contest. "Wait... you dug into my pockets?"

He cringed as it strutted up to him, but it only shoved the two pieces of paper into his hand. “So... you’re not a rodent.” It crossed its arms defensively. “...Sorry,” he apologized. “Then what exactly are you?” The not-rodent tapped impatiently, glaring at the yellowed pieces of paper. One was the crumpled original he carried with him, with strange symbols and his name written in barely legible chicken scratch, and the other...

"Did you draw this?" The critter bowed. He examined the paper further. There were five sketches- a key, a run-down building, a calendar, a briefcase, and one strange person-esque figure he didn't recognize. At several points, it seemed to have tried to write words, but scribbled them out instead. "Yeah? It's great. You're a real artist." He nodded to himself. "...How'd you hold the pen?" The critter stared at Daniel, seemingly annoyed. "Alright, fine. I'm understandably a little weirded out, okay, and I'm trying to make sense of this, and I'm guessing these are supposed to mean something, but I don't think I understand..."

The apple moved forward, tapping the key and building in quick succesion, then pointing towards the Community Center. "Uhh... Sorry, I majored in English, not hieroglyphics." It grumbled conspiratorially before repeating the same motion again. "Okay, so..." He puzzled over it for a moment, the small glow repeating his motions in a steady rhythm. "The run-down building is the Community Center?” He guessed, to the apparent approval of his glowing companion. “Which the Mayor said was locked... So, you need the key...?" It tapped the key, then pointed to him. "Oh! I need the key!" It ran in a circle, laughing and cheering as if he'd scored a touchdown. He had to admit, this thing was kind of cute. "Always knew I was the master of charades."

It excitedly pointed to the calendar, and he noticed that one of the days was circled. "Tuesday?" he said. "What's gonna happen on Tuesday?" It tapped him, then pointed to those three pictures in order.

“Me... Key... Community Center... Tuesday.” He nodded. “Okay, I think I get it. What I don’t understand is _why._ ” It seemed to try to come up with an answer, but short-circuited- the light flickered out. “Wait! My phone! Can you type?” The leaf lit up like a lightbulb. He picked it up, brushed off the dirt, and placed it back down with the notes app open. For a moment, it stared. “Or maybe I’m just stupid... Can the screen even sense your hand?” He reached down, but it poked him when he tried to pick it up. Staring intently at the screen, it slowly began to type. 

A lot of it was gibberish, but he was able to decipher at least one bit: _U must cme Tue. Imaprtnt ordr. Cn nit sy mych bc Damger n laws bt i protect_

"Me? _Danger_?" he said. "But... this doesn’t really explain anything." The creature referred back to the picture, pointing to the figure and then the briefcase. "I don't even know what one of them is! Can’t you type it?" It sighed, its stem drooping in disappointment. It shook _no_. 

Suddenly, it turned around, stem perking up as if it heard something. It croaked and dimmed its light. "What's up?" He said. Without explanation, it waved and dashed off into the grass. "Woah! Wait a minute! I need to know-!" But it was gone.

He stood and looked around in disbelief, but whatever that was up and dissapeared on him. He leaned down and gathered his things, still feeling the jabs to his hip. He stared at the the note, then at the background screen on his phone. He felt like scrambled eggs.

Anyone else would have said that there was something strange or wrong happening here, but as he walked home that late night, stumbling over rocks and particularly thick patches of shrubbery, his mind was entirely devoid of thought, as if nothing interesting happened at all. It was just fine.

Everything was fine.


	7. Trio One, Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship, probably.

_Contestants,_ Lewis had called, _We're going to begin the egg hunt!_

Abigail clutched her dingy floor-pillow closer to her chest, trying to forget the slimy feeling that had settled over her body. Stupidly enough, every death she suffered in Prairie King only served to remind her of her humiliation, as if the video game itself wasn't already frustrating enough. She squinted at the TV, which was difficult to see even with the adjacent window's curtains partially closed (David was fussy and wouldn't let her close them fully), and recklessly jerked her joystick in random directions in a weak attempt to avoid an ever-growing pile of enemies. Obviously, it didn’t work; with a single wrong motion, her journey came to a short and un-momentous end. She sighed in resignation, putting the controller down onto the hardwood floor as a final death sound forced itself out of the speakers. She gripped her arm, ignoring the pain from her palm meeting a bruised surface. So it seemed today, too, was not going to be her day. Yoba, when would it ever? But, when she looked at the empty bed behind her, debating how much time she would be allowed to curl up under the covers, she reminded herself that at the very least she had the bed to herself again... And at least it was no longer Saturday. Half-humorously, she was betting Sam felt the same. 

His first sneeze on Saturday, so powerful and sudden that it knocked him back a step, brought Lewis' customary speech to a grinding halt and prompted a collective, just-barely sympathetic groan from the crowd that weighed heavily on his shoulders. Sebastian was the only one who had no reaction; he just somehow pried a bag of tissues out of his black skinny jeans. Sam's allergies, though not immediately, could get undeniably terrible- it was Abigail's personal opinion that his mucus-filled sneezes were so corrosive that they could finish burning right through her hand. Sam was generally the sunniest of the three, but at times, like then in the square, muttering darkly under his breath after every barely-stifled sneeze, things like his allergies could put him into an uncharacteristically cloudy mood.

"Sam," she had whispered, keeping her eyes fixed on the mayor, who lit up once more as he got back into the rhythm of his speech. Though Sam was barely two inches from her, he gave no response. "Sam," She hissed, but she got nothing but a stifled double- no, triple- sneeze. " _Sam_." Finally, she glanced away for long enough to give a pointed look. 

"Oh," He replied, louder than she'd hoped. He craned his neck noticeably towards her. "Were you talking to me? I couldn't hear you with the _mucus starting to strangle my insides._ " He brought a used tissue to his nose.

" _Dude, shhh!_ " Lewis' speeches were already long, and she really didn't want to hear another on talking over a particularly regurgitated one- sorry, traditional one- especially when she planned on vaulting his fence for her victory routine. "I'll leave your backyard alone." She felt her voice catch as she said it, but she forced it out anyway. It was Sam, after all, and he was... "Anything else is fair, though, okay? And you can't try to steal my basket this time." When she was met with silence, Abigail thought he hadn't heard. "I'm trying to be cool here! _S-_ " She noticed the mayor had paused for dramatic effect.

After a beat, Sam muttered, "You're giving me a suspicious amount of freedom here..." Out of the corner of her eye, Abigail could see his face scrunch in confusion. "You know those are the easiest eggs, right? Nowhere to hide anything except grass?"

" _Maybe_ , but-" She began to whisper back, freezing a little when she remembered the gum-smacking newbie was right next to her. Was he trying to listen? She glanced over, but like the idiot he was, his glazed eyes stared off unthinkingly into the cloudless horizon. He hadn’t even rolled up his sleeves! Even Abigail put her hair up and wore something within the range of athletic. It was infuriating... She tried to forget he was there, lowering her voice even further. "But... that doesn't matter. I'll win anyway. Haley and her jockey won't be obstacles, and I just need more of a challenge, that's all." She tried to shake off an unpleasant feeling that was clambering up through her stomach.

"Well... No takebacksies!" He whispered enthusiastically. "No takebacksies," she agreed uneasily. Something occurred to her when she looked at his good-natured face, and she shifted somewhat inconspicuously towards him. "Just... Don't let The far-“ She began, but her voice was drowned out by an animated “Let the egg hunt begin!” 

"Goootta go!" Sam called gleefully, kicking up gravel as he went. That was when she knew she’d made a mistake- in the brief moment that she floundered alone in the center of the town square, the usual disapproving eyes boring into her, Sam had already recruited people to his cause. Sam’s energy matched those of the two young children, maybe even outclassed them, and together they quickly disappeared into the fenced-in lawn, where _he_ faced them, waving kindly. He turned towards her, as if feeling her gaze, and they locked eyes for a moment before she turned her head. She wanted to move away, far away from him, but she found that her limbs didn’t listen to her commands. Rooted to the spot, she watched each competitors backs as they went, angry and at a loss. A bone-chilling realization worked itself through her body- she had never been the last one to begin the search. 

The sun began to blind her eyes. Something sharp threatened to burst through the bottom of her worn sneakers. Murmurs from the crowd rose and fell onto her ears. Was Sebastian murmuring, too? She heard his voice above all others, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Should she give up? Their voices were like acid in her ears, another burn on her hands. She was already so far behind... But, no, she reminded herself, she needed this win. And at the very least, the one back she hadn’t seen was the farmers. No, she had looked him directly in the eyes. 

With a jolt of electricity, she bolted into the graveyard, hastily picking out multicolored eggs among the dry grass and sparse tombstones (did they appreciate having eggs laid on their graves?). Bugs crawled their way over some of them, dragging dirt and crumbs along their painted surfaces, and bees mistook them for flowers, but she paid no mind and dropped egg after egg into her aptly spider-themed basket. She quickly worked her way along the river, sticking her hand under bushes, partially scaling trees, sticking her hand between the slats of fences. She could do this. All she needed was nine, and nine she would get. She could still be known, begrudgingly accepted, reluctantly acknowledged. She didn’t stop to take a breath.

When she’d swept the area clean, even taking a tentative but quick step once-over of the sewer grates, her eyes scoured the landscape for a new target. From up on the graveyard tree, she caught sight see Maru and Penny (when had she joined?) jokingly taunting each other from opposite ends of the debris, waving their egg baskets over their heads. With a sudden wobble, Penny pitched forward- her basket, surprisingly filled, flipped, bombshell-like eggs cracking themselves directly over her Mary Janes. Abigail almost took a moment to feel bad- then, in a moment of absurdity, they burst with high peals of laughter. She haughtily de-scaled the tree. 

Dashing towards her next destination, she nearly crossed their path- there they were, just ambling right in the direction of the mayors house. _Ambling._ Holy hell, the nerve was sickening! Didn’t they know how little time they had? But fine, if they wanted to make her win easy, then that was fine with her. She hurried instead in the direction of the Saloon, one last free place- she didn’t think Penny herself would have picked an area clean, but she was with Maru, so this was her best bet. The voices from Sam’s group followed her, and at the pace they were moving in, they hadn’t left her sight. In spite of herself, she kept glancing over at them. 

"Woah! Hey, little dude, you almost stepped over that egg there." They all paused on the path. Daniel leaned down to pick up an egg, which slowly stopped its roll as his hand drew near, then gently dropped it into the boy's basket. How disrespectfully obvious. Abigail tore through the nearby bushes, half-hoping that Granny hadn’t turned to see petals flowing down onto the pavement. 

Vincent was awed. "You're amazing! That's my fifth egg today!" Feeling a spike of annoyance, Abigail protectively held her basket in the crook of her arm, quickly counting them. She had five, too, but they were well-earned- if they thought they could keep finding obvious ones, they were wrong. Luck could only get you so far... She looked underneath the Saloon stairs, finding them empty. Though, with this being the last free place she could think of, she supposed luck wouldn’t do her any harm...

"That's so cool! We have eleven eggs all together, right, Sam? How many eggs have you got, Mister?" Hurrying around the building, her eyes rested on on a black and metal mass of garbage bags. She actually stopped for the first time, placing her basket down next to it, and began teetering on her heels.

"Looks like... 6!” Steeling herself, she stiffly stuck one hand into the pile, cautiously separating the bloated black bags. Any eggs that were left untouched were usually because they were hidden in undesirable places, and she refused to lose because the town liked to play dirty tricks. It was a small pile... She barely even had to touch it, just move it a little... “Oh, I miscounted. Seven!” Abandoning all dignity, she threw herself hands first into the pile. "Wow! You’re so amazing, Mister!"

"Yeah! Tha- h-" Shit! Sam's forceful sneeze knocked her off balance... Or maybe it was the smell of Gus’ spoiled chicken. Either way, in a cacophony of clangs and rustling plastic, she found herself slipping deeper into the pile- it had evidently been organized to look like less than it was. "Ub... Sorry... Thanks." When she couldn’t sit up, she began to wrestle with both panic and the plastic bags in front of her. She didn’t have time...

"Oh! And there's one for you... Jas, right?" said the farmer, his figure now farther off than before- but his voice carried. Determined, Abigail pushed herself out just in time to see Jas, who had only ever looked at her with abject fear, willingly hold her basket out to him. "Th-thank you, Mister..." She peeled a plastic bag off of her skin. Even from inside the damn pile she hadn’t seen a single one! How had that bastard done it? Had there really been so many obvious ones that she’d missed?

"No problem!" He said, annoyingly pleased. From the square, she heard the mayor call out the time. Shit. Fuck. There had to be more time!

She jumped to her feet, narrowly escaping an especially overfull garbage bag tearing open. A rancid meat stench spilled out; she didn’t look down to see it. She didn’t even bother to dust herself off. Where? Where could she go? So Penny wasn’t the best at searching- then, maybe, maybe there was something by that pen-

"Dusty! Dusty, no-"

And as if conjured by the thought, there was a dog.

"BARK!" In an instant, she felt the entire weight of the world collapse onto her.

"Shit!" She shouted when she landed. The weight was quickly lifted from her, but the air had already been squeezed from her lungs. Half-fortunately, she landed on something just squishy and slimy enough to protect her body from shattering- but she could already feel hot pain worming its way through her, and she gasped for air. The litter-infested landscape drifted away from her sight for a minute, and in a moment of confusion, her nose told her she smelled smoke. Huge cracking noises echoed in her skull, and she had a moment of disorientation before she could make out anything more than her own screaming body and dry coughs. 

Head still spinning, Abigail had enough left in her to force a tanned hand away from her- a mistake on her part. She hissed in pain, then quickly un-extended her arm, holding it close to her chest. “Hey,” she vaguely recognized the boys voice, “Here, let me- Dusty!” She blinked. That boy. It was him...

“Thank you,” she mumbled, the words falling out of her cotton mouth before she realized. Luckily, her voice was so low and rough that she doubt he could’ve heard. He didn’t deserve them. Clearly, the fall had scrambled her brain, even though she hadn’t actually hit her head- for a moment, she had forgotten just where they were, what year it was. She shook her head, forcing herself to look at what was in front of her: a crazed dog, a plastic black pile, and a blinding Tunnelers jersey. She immediately knew where to cast blame. _That oblivious gridball fuck._ “You almost,” she coughed, “fucking killed me!”

"I’m sorry, I really- Hell- Don't lick her!" The walking ball of fluff swooped towards her, panting happily before he was pulled back by his collar. "Oh Yoba, don’t lick _that,_ either...” For all the exercising he did, Alex really struggled to keep his dog at bay. She would have laughed, if she weren’t so pissed; and if she weren’t so busy cradling her arm and protecting her chest, now that her lungs were full enough to put pressure on her evidently bruised ribs. Actually, she would’ve told him off immediately, but she needed to take a moment to writhe. “Shit, boy, how much more trouble do you want to put us in?” His voice was grating. Abigail muttered, “A whole fucking lot, where I’m concerned,” but she knew he had forgotten her presence as much as she wanted to forget his. She knew he was a dumbass, but this took the cake, and now she was so off balance she couldn’t remember what the hell she was supposed to be doing. She blinked a few times and began to stand, vaguely noticing the cracking and squelching noises as she moved. “Hold on, let me make sure your head is-” She would’ve shoved him if he’d come any closer, but he suddenly froze. “Um..” She opened her mouth to say something vile, but something vile slid off her arm instead. She looked down.

With a shock, everything properly clicked back into focus.

“What. The. Fuck!” Abigail screamed. Not only had she been knocked into the garbage, but into the torn bag, spreading its rotten contents everywhere. “Holy shit, holy fuck...!” She leapt away, repulsed, but found that the smell- among other things- clung to her. “Nononono-“ Nausea and humiliation froze her in place, not the least of all was from which was the realization that it was egg yolk that had slid off her arm. She wished it was blood. They stood there a moment, shocked and wordless, until she came to a gut-twisting realization- Oh Yoba, where the fuck was her basket? We’re all of her eggs destroyed? She shoved around the foul soup-like mixture in search. With a clear look of disgust, Alex began to inch backwards, taking Dusty back with him. Now, even the dog looked slightly apprehensive. She opened her mouth and pointed a filthy finger, dripping in green slime, in his direction- to do what, she wasn’t sure- but a deafening noise poured over her before she did, threatening to finish wringing out her lungs.

Hidden behind the Saloon, the crowd was cheering.

“No! Lewis called?” Covering her legs in more filth, she ran back to the pile. She dug through the pile in desperation. “He’s gotta know I’m missing!” 

“Jesus! Did you actually hit your head? Get out of there!” Alex cautiously re-approached the garbage pile, wide-eyed. “Fuck off!” She yelled, but neither he nor the cheering disappeared. “I don’t need your fucking help, especially not when it’s _your_ fault.”

“I’m really sorry, I swear! He just jumped up out of nowhere and started running! Dusty, go home!” Dusty’s whining grew distant. “ _Please_ get out of there...”

His voice was strange- it almost sounded anxious. He never sounded like that, even when he fucked up. His dog must’ve actually killed someone. “He must’ve smelled the meat! I can make a fantastic steak, but dogs don’t always care about quality...“ He blabbered on, but she ignored him and continued to dig. What was he even doing there? “This is just pretty uncomfortable for me, I just... I’ll make you a steak if you come out?” He sounded like the one who hit his head to her. Anyway, she had already fallen in, so what was the point in shying away now? She needed that basket, the win, at any and all costs, for sanity’s sake. She didn’t even want to think about whether her friends were in that crowd. Alex’s shadow drew closer. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry...

“Alex!” A voice as pleasing as a strangled rooster called from behind. “Alex! There you are!” There was a sudden flash of light that made Abigail’s spine stiffen. “And you did what I asked of yo- Oh!” _Did she just say...?_

Abigail whirled around, feeling as if she were about to spit flame. “What did you just say?” _You did what I asked of you!_ She knew those words too well- she hated those words from the moment the Old Man died. From that one big fight... A few feet away from Alex, Haley began to cackle, lowering her camera, her face turning pink with breathlessness. “Oh my Yoba! This is-“ she could barely finish her sentence. 

“You better fucking delete that!” Abigail’s eye began to twitch as her brain sprinted into overdrive. Heaving with rage, she sloshed out of the garbage pile.

“Haley! Hold on, I think she’s-“ Alex began, but Abigail closed in on him.

“Did you fucking _plan_ this, you creep?” She growled. She made to grab him by the collar, but he dodged, bewildered.

“What the hell? Calm down, I just _saved_ you, I didn’t-“

She lunged for him again, and found that her body was trembling. “SAVED?” She screeched. “ _SAVED?_ I’ve been tortured too many times to believe your bullshit! You set your dog on me, bastard! You cost me everything!” She thought about going at him one last time, but she swerved instead towards Haley, who didn’t even bother to contain her laughter. “And you! Always the snake!” Abigail’s sneakers shed green slime behind her.

“Woah, neither of us had anything to do with this!” Alex protectively grabbed Haley and held her behind his back. From behind him, Haley gasped, “I didn’t- caught me off guard- but it was so _funny _-”__

“Look, I think you need to go to the Doc’s place.” If she weren’t disgusting, he might have dragged her there himself in front of the whole crowd, just so they could ogle. She understood now- The unfamiliar way he was acting was just to buy time for Haley’s camera to arrive. She didn’t get why he always had to stand up for this witch! Alex was a good actor, she had to admit- even now, he looked almost innocent, like a little girl caught in one of her parent’s fights. But if she looked at his face- a good look- she was sure that he was holding back roaring laughter. She again tried to advance towards Haley. “I’m always prime entertainment for you, aren’t I? Want to make me look like I’m fucking insane?” She hated how her voice cracked. That spark in his eyes was indisputable.

“Is it really my fault for what Dusty does? I said we had nothing to do with this!” There was always someone to blame. Putrid smells began to work their way through her pores. “Please, let’s just get you to-“

“Bullshit, Mullner, she just fucking said it!“ There was nothing she could do to stop her voice from crumbling. She closed her eyes, but even then she could still see Haley’s face, imagine Alex’s lip twisting into a smile. 

“Hey, it’s all good! She was just looking for me, okay?” She lunged again, this time with the intent to swing, but had to stop when her ribs started to rally against her. If she didn’t know him better, she would’ve said he flinched. He moved, but he wasn’t afraid- didn’t need to fight back, either because his queen had already won. “I ran to my house to grab something, and she came looking for me! Right?”

“That’s- this is-“ Finally, Haley sucked in a breath. “Alex is right, we had nothing to do with this,” Now, they were mocking her. “See? I’ll even delete the- the uh... p-picture...” At that, she began to fall into another laughing fit.

“Shut the hell up!” Abigail blubbered. Damn it, she wasn’t a little kid anymore! “Stop laughing at me! You’re both liars!” She sniffled. “You- you’re not even good liars!” 

Alex nodded firmly. “Alright, I’m going to get Harvey.”

“I don’t _need_ -“

“Actually, Haley, you should go. I’ll-”

“Don’t ignore me-“ 

“-stay with her. She doesn’t need much handling, but-“

“I’m not your dog!”

“S- h _ahaa_ -sure, Alex.” But she looked stuck to the spot. 

“You can’t just abuse me like your pet! I’m not poor Dusty-“

“Dude, just stop. Please. Just take a few deep breaths, okay? You’re freaking me out, honest,” she couldn’t understand the look on his face, but it was undoubtedly derogatory. For a moment, she couldn’t speak. It felt like a piece of garbage had gotten caught in her throat. “H-hey, don’t cry-“

“Fuck you! I’m not!” Words flowed from her mouth as quickly as her tears. “You can grow every muscle but a brain! You know that?” She wanted to wipe her eyes, but moaned in frustration when she couldn’t. “Damn it! You- you’re nothing but a coward! Just a useless fucking coward! I’ll- I’ll...!“ When Haley’s laughter abruptly stopped, she knew something was wrong.

Suddenly, his entire body stiffened, hardening into molten stone, and his mouth carved into a deep, scar-like scowl. His eyes were indescribable... For the first time in the entire exchange, Alex was angry, no, _furious,_ and his anger rolled off of him in heavy, suffocating waves. Abigail realized she had been standing almost nose to nose with him, and stumbled back as if shoved. Alex opened his mouth, then clenched it shut, shaking his head. He turned from her, acting as if she weren’t there, and his back heaved with labored breaths.

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you?” All the humor had left Haley’s body. “You need more than a regular doctor! You-“ 

"Haley.” Alex held up a hand. For a moment, they all stood there in silence. Idle chatter from the crowd was fading off, doing less and less to mask her heartbeat. Any moment now, the tension in his body would release right into her face. She waited for it- maybe even anticipated it- but he relaxed. Just like that. Completely collected. 

“I’m going home. For some reason, I really need a shower.” He turned and started walking. After giving her a deeply disdainful look, Haley followed. _I’m not the wrong one here._

She found her basket behind a small bag of leftovers. It was crushed.

She pressed her head into the rough brick wall.

“As expected, you are... here.” Pierre’s mouth pressed into a thin, white line. She would’ve preferred the entire town to see her in his place. As usual, she focused on the center of his forehead. “Dirt and hair dye weren’t enough for you, I see.” She didn’t even have the will to argue. She just leaned against the Saloon and stared at the floor. “Your mother sent me.”

“So, who...” she trailed off. 

“Hmm?” Abigail did not offer a word more. “Ah. You want to know who won. Well, it was Mr. Decker with 11 eggs.” He continued, “Well deserved, in my opinion.” Before he finished his sentence, she began to vomit. “Hm. Good thing Lewis is still entertaining, then,” he muttered. “Go the long way and get the hose. Don’t track anything into my store. We’ll speak later. And next fair, you might want to stick behind my stand.”

She didn't think she would go out at all.

  



	8. Blood Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship, probably.

Abigail had barely let her head hit the pillow when someone was knocking on her door. 

It wasn't Sam or Seb. She blew too many of their visitation requests off, their mentions of something “important” sent to decay in her voicemail. She never picked up or returned their calls, and in the near future, she didn’t plan to- if they even called again, because she was sure they reached the Limit. 

So it just had to be Pierre. Since the incident had occurred, he made her work even more hours in the shop (without pay), likely to keep her from embarrassing herself. He didn’t say it out loud, though- he was always consistent in the inconsistence of his insults. Instead, he’d said something like, _Abigail, keeping my store running is in the best interest of this FAMILY._ Abigail had to have a debate with herself on whether _family_ was a new product he was selling, or whether he was hiding a couple of people underneath the counter.

"I'll be out in a second..." She mumbled. She pulled the sheets over her head. It was too hot for the quilt, and getting hotter by the hour, but stewing in heat and darkness was probably preferable to frowns and pulled faces. Though, she should consider a hot shower...

"Hey," A muffled voice wafted through the door. "It's the, uh... farmer. Daniel?"

"Daniel." She repeated slowly. She pulled the sheets from her face and squinted at the patchy ceiling. Her vision was blurry. Really, her everything was kind of blurry. She unhelpfully imagined her father fawning over him as he entered, like he was the son of Yoba. The same man who ignored her and her runner-up ribbon at the fifth grade science fair.

"Yeah. Sorry if I'm bothering you, I won't be long." She placed her bare feet on the floor, wincing at the remnants of pain, debating whether or not to open the door. She looked to David for his opinion, but he busied himself with chowing down on his lettuce. She vaguely registered that it was probably dinner time. She might have to open the door eventually... Even if it was just to drag the splintered folding table back into her room again. Finally, she crossed the room and unlocked it. If he just wanted to walk in and punch her in the face, well, at this point there was really nothing she could do about it.

"Hello." She said flatly, finding herself once more bombarded by the scents of mint and soap. She focused her eyes on the button of his flannel, busying herself by counting the amount of wrinkles on his shirt. Did he just throw it on? Not that she could judge, since she was in an overstretched T-shirt and spotty sweatpants that she tried inconspicuously to straighten. "I was just playing a game. You can come in and..." she impatiently waited for him to fill in the gap in her knowledge. 

"Oh, no, don’t worry about that." he said easily, and held out a familiar small white paper bag. "I just came to drop something off. If I remember correctly, it was requested on the bulletin outside." She didn’t have to see his smile to feel it, which promptly brought on Abigail’s short-lived annoyance.

She wanted to say, _what am I supposed to do with this?_ , but her motivation was about as strong as a painted egg. Instead, Abigail hesitantly took it, knitting her brows. It was heavier than she expected, and she eyed it with skepticism. A trick? "The last time I put something on the board was months ago. I don't even remember what I..." She shook the bag, hearing a clacking sound amidst the crinkling paper. She froze. 

Her eyes widened as the full impact of her memories hit her. Turning the bag to its other side, she revealed various cleanly drawn cartoon characters surrounding the unmistakable spidery signature of the departed farmer- _from the Old Man, A. Rios._ "No way...!" She breathed, forgetting herself. She spun to the desk behind her, unrolling the bag as fast as she could without ripping it, and emptied its contents onto her computer's keyboard. Multicolored candy in clear wrappers rained down, a few of them bouncing their way from the keys onto the floor. She recalled that as a kid, she used to pretend their sugar-brains were trying to escape being swallowed. Since her last bag had been mistaken for trash and banished to the garbage pile, she didn't think she would ever see one ever again.

"I hope that’s good. I’m not gonna die, am I?" He joked. Was that a comment on her resting bitch face? The reminder of his presence caused her to deflate back into wariness, and her eyes flicked between the keyboard and the black button. “It might be good.” She returned curtly. 

“Tough customer,” he shrugged.

To be honest, she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry, but she couldn’t do either with this shadow literally looming over her. Was he waiting for a thank you? Of course he was- it was a nice thing, wasn’t it? Well, maybe it was. It could've been. But... Abigail watched as a plaid arm, trembling almost imperceptibly, braced itself on the doorframe. A bit of wound dressing stuck out from under the sleeve.

She barely stifled a sharp intake of breath. "How did you...” She stopped herself. Sure, he was _acting nice_ , but being nice was a different ballpark. He was still some guy who decided to take over not only her main escape, but her main claim to validity. With his stolen profession, and his slithering around town all nice-smelling, the humiliation, deforestation... Maybe a tree had fallen on him. Not her business. Still, that didn’t stop her traitorous body from feeling a sharp stab of second-hand pain right where the injury could’ve been. She cleared her throat, steering her question in a different direction. “How did you get this?” She asked the shirt. "Not the candy. The bag, I mean. From the farmer." 

What bit of chin she could see tilted to the side. "Huh. I thought everybody already knew he was my grandfather." Abigail’s surprise caused her to meet his eyes for a brief moment, where she was again shocked by a number of small scrapes and bandaids covering his face. Crap, maybe he _was_ attacked by a tree. The sympathetic pains washed through her again, and both those and his words grated on her so much that she distracted herself by forcing out a harsh laugh. 

“You’re kidding, right? Grandfather?” She continued to laugh, though it sorta devolved into something like choking. He didn’t take it back. "...Really?" 

His voice morphed into amused disbelief. "You actually didn't know? And just when I started to suspect there was a bright neon sign with my name and lineage on it somewhere..."

 _Grandfather?_ Now she was _actually_ choking. She tried to match his foreign, scuffed face to the familiar, almost glowing one of Mr. Rios. "But if he was Rios, and you're Decker..." 

He nodded in understanding. "I have my dad’s name."

"Oh," she puzzled. " _Oh,_ " she repeated, though she was in no way closer to understanding the situation. She hated those implications. His so-called right to... She had never seen that farmhouse inhabited by more than one person in her life- and because it was so small, there were rarely ever visitors. There was no way to reconcile in her mind that the guy standing before her was related in any way to _her_ Old Man, no way he could be the... successor? He had no successor. This guy was only an invader, someone elbowing their way into a community for himself. The only family Arthur had was the town, and that all died when he did.

So who was he really?

“So, about the-“

“You know-“

She blinked. “The-“

“Satur- oh, sorry,“ He chuckled. “You first.”

“Uh, right,” she mumbled. “So, uh, you know...” she repeated, “Honestly, I... thank you. I haven't gotten one of these bags in so long,” she gingerly picked up a gem as blue as Haley's eyes, holding it close to her as if to make sure it wouldn’t disappear. "He used to give these kinds of ‘personalized’ candy bags to all the kids at random times every month. Invite us over to the farm, line us all up, hand them out, and then turn a blind eye when we all got sugar-high and tried to destroy everything." She rolled the candy around in her hands before dropping it back into the bag, alone. “Amethyst candy. Me and him- our favorite. Did you know anything about that?” 

"That sounds really cool,” he offered, and his hand, trembling now a bit more, went to the back of his neck. _Save your sympathy, stupid sympathy nerves._ “And no, I guess I didn’t. But if you do, then that’s probably the only thing that matters.” That was one thing he was right about. She looked up to find him smiling once more, a small and understanding one, as if that small glow could wash the cuts away from his cheeks. The cuts he’d gotten from farming. She felt a deep soreness envelop her entire body.

“Yeah, he did a lot of things like that for us,” she said, “Like one time, he got us all prizes at the fair because we just _sucked_ at the games. Or another year, he let us put a ton of Joja Cola in the soup during the Luau because... Because.” She knew she’d lost him, which was kind of the point. Emotion was creeping into her voice, and she felt bitter looking at the polite, tanned face that existed in and out of every open doorway instead of one bleached room. A cold face that matched the white walls so well was simply bound to them- at least, that was how it was for her. “I’m guessing you didn’t know that, either.” 

“Yeah, I’m generally pretty clueless about... well, a lot,” he said, gesturing in a nondescript direction. “This whole place is still a mystery to me.”

“So... you don’t know anything about him or anything about this town. Then...” She paused, only willing to accept eye contact upon delivering the crucial point. “He’s not your grandfather.” She imagined the air leaving the room. “Not really. And you’re just... taking everything as if it’s yours. Like you had a right to touch it.” 

His blank stare was penetrating, and for the briefest of moments, she almost felt bad. She almost recognized his eyes. _Almost._ They glazed over, but he quickly blinked out of it. 

“Sorry, I’m just shocked.” He took a deep breath. “You are literally the first person to question this. Do you need a birth certificate to believe me?” She didn’t respond for a moment, completely taken aback. That was a complete left turn.

“No, that’s not what I...” 

“I actually have no clue where my birth certificate is at the moment. But, y’know, you might be able to find that sign somewhere.” He winced and rubbed his forehead. She didn't know what to say.

Abigail was almost completely confused into silence- then a high-pitched pig squeal filled the room. She shrieked and tumbled forward, cowering under her arms. She went deep purple, covering the part of her nose that’d bumped him (which was all of it). The noise repeated itself three times before her deeply instilled fear turned into embarrassment and the need to kill. 

“Are you okay?” She sheepishly lifted her vibrating phone from her pocket, resisting the urge to snap it in half.

“Just my... ringtone... I mean, not mine, _I_ didn’t choose it, it’s just...” She shut off the phone without looking, and the next squeal was abruptly cut off. She sucked in a breath between her teeth. She didn’t know how or when Sam both turned on and changed her ringtone, but she was going to call him back and kill him. Her heart was still beating hard. She existed awkwardly.

“I, um, have some... whatdoyoucallit? H-homework I need to finish. And I'm really bad at writing. So it would be great, uh... Well... Hey, can you leave?” She finished abruptly.

He cleared his throat. “No problem.” His eyebrows kept dipping up into his hair, like they were trying to hide themselves. “I have to take care of something, so I’ll leave you... to that.” _Asshole. Sam, you’re such an asshole._ Daniel offered a slight nod, stepping smoothly back over the threshold. Even though is hands were still strangely unsteady, probably more than before from stifling laughter, (and hers were, too, from the willpower it took to avoid grabbing a knife) he seized the door and closed it shut. With her phone shoved to her ear, Abigail nearly died trying to step back over the candy.

———————————————

Daniel mentally crossed off another item from his list, thankful that he was able to walk home without being forced to grab an extra bag of fertilizer. Pierre worried him- each time they spoke, he would get stuck in some kind of bizarre, looping train of thought that moved faster than Daniel could squeeze out a single word. He only had a brief conversation with his daughter the once, the time he caused an avalanche of merchandise, but she didn’t seem to drive herself in circles. It starts with a habitual adjustment of his glasses during a pitch- then, it suddenly occurs to him to worry about Daniel’s eyesight, and then quickly his health as a whole, which then causes him to ramble about profits, and soon he’s so deeply distressed that he circles all the way back to wondering whether Daniel was interested in buying a years worth of seeds.

Well, there was something he could’ve bought, but...

He had to stop and lean over a fence to steady himself, pressing his palms into his eye sockets. His hands were clammy and cold. The farm was running a drought, and he didn’t know how long he would last before he caved and solved his problem in public. He could give the devils at Joja more money than they’d ever paid him, or he could carry home a bottle from the Saloon, but that was...

 _Dangerous?_ A shiver went through his body. _Nothing is dangerous here. You need nothing. You are happy._ His lips pulled up high in the corners, and he could not stop the slithering feeling of elation creep through his body. Better and better every day.

Then, a glowing orb leaped out from behind a cow’s leg.

He jumped back from the fence, covering his mouth in an attempt to stop a stupidly dramatic gasp. ”Oh my Yoba, you’re still real,” he whispered. "I thought I was hallucinating!" He began to flatten down his hair and then stopped, questioning the absurdity of trying to impress a species with an unknown beauty standard. “As a genuine question... are you just in the habit of following people around?” The small thing squeaked innocently.

He leaned over and tentatively offered a hand to the being. “You... ran off on me the other day. You wanna tell me what that’s about?” It ignored him, and instead stuck a black arm at his nose. “Ah... What about it?” It tried again to charade, to no avail; it hopefully pointed to his pocket. “I have nothing, sorry,” he stuck his hand in one, feeling like an idiot. The notes were resting on the table back at the farm, and his phone was flat-out dead. He unsteadily lifted the creature close to his face, feeling none of its presence. A small warmth briefly touched him, but it was replaced by an awareness of his hand, sticky with sweat.

“Ow! Stop that!” He whisper-yelped- it abruptly shoved both pointy arms into the raw spots on his face. “What are you doing?” When the assault continued, he stretched his arm back over the cow pen. “I-I’ll drop you!” It dropped its arm to its side instead, leafy antenna drooping.

From nowhere, it produced a small scrap of paper and held it up to him- danger was written in careful, shaky penmanship, accompanied by another drawing of the strange man. It whimpered and motioned back to his face, to the places where scabs were only just starting to form, seeming intensely disturbed by them. He sighed, wiping his free palm on his jeans.

“Are you that worried about it?” It bobbed a forceful yes. “Well, don’t. It’s so insignificant I don’t even remember it happening,” he shrugged, idly toying with the button on his shirt. It chirruped madly at him, disregarding the impossible language barrier between them, and proceeded to fall over. He stifled the instinct to laugh.

It fell over a few times more, after he continually failed in controlling his unbalanced hand. “Oh, sorry!” He propped his arm against splintering wood. “I didn’t…” he hesitated. “I didn’t eat dinner, so- Ow!“ It stomped on the sensitive points on his hand, lifting the tiny sign once more over his head. _Danger._ What danger?

“You’re crazy, little guy,” he frowned, “I just can’t understand what you mean. I don’t see anything dangerous around here.” Daniel quickly placed it back onto the fence as it poised to strike, leaving the finger-sized strip of paper in his palm. He crumpled the sheet, shoving it into his pocket. Though he considered the other notes kind of cute, he felt an odd distaste for this one.

“Hey, do you have a name?” It responded by turning away from him. “Because I think a really good one would be… Poke. Yeah, that seems fitting,” he mused. “A little cheesy, but-“ Poke’s light brightened for a moment, startling them both. “I guess that means you like it?” It glanced back, but continued to ignore him. It seemed annoyed, but he had a strong feeling it wasn’t about the name.

"That’s the only thing you came to tell me?" There was no response. "Nothing about what I’m doing here? What I should be doing, why I’m needed?" Not a peep. "Alright, what did I do?" It sighed, finally turning around to look at him seriously. It wasn’t particularly angry, but it somehow managed to look tired- slouched, limp. But before they could try once more their futile communication, it muttered something darkly and dove back towards Marnie's cows.

“Wait! Poke! I don’t understand-!” The light, dodging through the ground, flickered and died. “Why’d you show up if I wasn’t going to learn anything?” He was tempted to follow it, but he wasn't sure he would want to wade in a possible sea of manure, and- Oh no, it was probably on his hand.

“Hey,” a gruff voice called behind him. “Admiring the livestock?” It startled him, and he nearly knocked his head on the fence. He must’ve looked really suspect, the way he was furiously scrubbing his hands on his jeans. He scrambled upright, turning to see Shane carrying a case of beer in the direction of the lake. At the edge of the docks, he stopped, half turning to look at him. “Don’t get too close to Vivian. The brown one,” he clarified, pointing somewhere behind him. “She has a few bad habits that Marnie can’t seem to break.” Daniel quickly moved away from the pen when he noticed a pair of eyes glinting in the fading light. Had she been watching him the whole time?

“Sorry,” he hastily replied, “Didn’t mean to bother you. Or the cows.” He retreated from Vivian, who blinked and seemed to chew something invisible with distaste. She snorted. Was she pretending to chew on him? Yoba. Were his organs ever safe?

“Hmph.” Though he was used to unkind words and curse-filled insults, Shane gave only a noncommittal grunt in response. This, above all he’d ever said, staggered him. He turned to watch him, or the shadow that he supposed was him, waiting for a snide remark or a signal of aggression that never came. Not too long ago, Shane mumbled a creative slight when their paths crossed behind the saloon- something about a fucknugget, he remembered. Shane normally regarded him with almost theatrical contempt.

Shane walked to the edge of the dock, and placing down his case of beer, carefully lowered himself down right beside it. As if he were a small child, he kicked his legs over the water- a deep contrast to his gloomy hair and shadowed, gruff face. After a brief shuffle, he clicked on a lamp beside him.

There was something different about Shane tonight- something calmer. Daniel watched him take in the moonlight, the night’s relative silence, before his shoulders caved into himself and he heard the telltale pop of a beer being opened. Another night’s drink- automatically, robotically. What was Shane doing out here? There was something calmer, something that wasn’t pure anger, maybe, but... Certainly something darker. Something that the stars couldn’t illuminate. Though the night grew inky, he could see it clearly. He almost felt as if he knew it himself.

_Shut up._ Something told him. _No you don’t._

He didn’t know why- maybe the beer drew him, or just the simple allure of the water- but he found himself walking closer to him. For a moment, Daniel found himself toeing the line between grass and wood, not daring to place his feet fully on the dock, but too inexplicably drawn to allow nature to claim him. “You can sit down, if you want,” Shane muttered without turning. “No point in just looming over me.” He sensed reluctance in his tone, but also a sense of heightened energy that might have just been emanating from his own trembling fingers. Still, he could’ve told him to buzz off...

Daniel hesitated a second. “No. I mean, thank you. I don’t want to bother you. I should probably...” He looked back to the pitch bramble-filled entrance to his farm, then back at the docks, open, bright, and... with a case of beer. He shook his head, shoving a shaky hand into his pocket. “Yeah, alright. Thanks.” He stepped onto the planks, hesitantly taking up an empty space. He wasn’t sure if he should- even though he was invited, it felt... private. A ritual, of sorts. Nonetheless, he lowered himself down beside him, careful not to allow his heels to dig too deeply into the water. “Here,” Shane passed him a beer, which was so cold it almost instantly froze his hands. He awkwardly repeated his thanks. For a minute, he just stared at the bottle. Dangerous. There was an abyss of silence.

“So... up late, huh?” Shane murmured suddenly. He still didn’t turn to look at him. He kept fumbling with the red cap from his bottle, turning it this way and that in his hand until it finally tumbled, clinking somewhere on the worn wood beneath them. Shane didn’t look for it, and instead clasped his hands firmly around the edge of the wooden dock.

“Is it that late?” He looked down at his wrist, realizing he never wore a watch. He tugged the sleeve on his arm down and shrugged. “Yeah. I guess I always am.” His bottle clicked open, and he breathed in his first drink. Horrible.

He continued to drink. Steadiness worked it’s way through his body.

Shane lifted the bottle to his lips, sending him a sidelong glance. It occurred to him that he might have been drinking too fast, and he consciously made an effort to sip slowly. Shane didn’t seem to take notice. “Your face... What happened?”

“Birth,” It was an instant response, and he forgot to imitate Shane’s lowered voice, making the word too loud over the calm waters. He tried again. “It’s actually a new look I’m going for. Attempted Murder by Tree.” He cringed. Stupid joke.

“Oh.” He added nothing more. Shane opened another drink, gradually falling into himself. Daniel couldn’t help but examine him. He swore he knew him, or at the very least could recognize something about him. The longer his body sank into the splintering wood, the more familiar it felt.

For a long while, the untuned crickets and humble bubbling of the lake was their silence. He allowed himself to embrace it, and felt as though he should be slowly, slowly sinking deep into the water. Shane fumbled with another bottle cap, and when that dropped, something small and round from his pocket- a pink marble. Daniel couldn’t sit still, either, and he eventually gave in to unbuttoning and buttoning the ends of his sleeves. _He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not._

His thoughts wandered, but they could never get far. He realized that his thoughts were kind of circular, too.

“I guess farming has it’s perks.” When Daniel finished his beer, he stretched out, preparing to go- but with those words, Shane placed another between them. _Dangerous._

“What do you mean?” He fixed the button on his sleeve. He loves me not. He noticed the self-applied bandage was coming undone. "Oh, the new look? Well, I was actually hoping to get ripped, but this was a close second."

“Hm.” Shane’s reactions were indecipherable.

"But there's other perks, too," he mused, "Like the periodic dirt meals, steamed insides, the lovely smell..." To his utter shock, Shane chuckled.

“Just like the animals.” His voice was stifled by the glass. Abruptly, he finished off the rest of his drink and adjusted himself so that his body was half-facing Daniel. His eyes were burning into his skin, and Daniel’s face went hot. The way he was examining him- like he was picking apart every detail...

"I... Yeah, I bet." He cleared his throat and looked at the ground.

“You were the one who helped Jas out, right?” Shane didn’t wait for a response. “Yeah, you made her real happy. She was havin’ a bad day otherwise.” He shook his head. “Some family I am, huh?” It seemed as if he was speaking out into the air rather than him, and Daniel, face still to the ground, almost didn't respond.

“Well, I... I think she was alright. Either way, I mean.” Daniel said. “Kids can be surprisingly independent, you know? I don’t think she would’ve cared if I’d left half way.”

“Nah.” He picked up his empty bottle for a drink, then chuckled dryly. “Nah, not Jas. She always needs someone, and me-“ He stopped himself to open another beer, but didn’t pick up the thought. He could see an eye glaze over from the visible sliver of his face, as if either his thoughts had briefly vacated the premises or had locked him inside with them. “Just... thanks, I guess.” He finished, clearing his throat.

“It was, uh, really no problem,” he stuttered. Out of all things to expect, he really, really wasn't expecting that. The opposite, maybe- chiding him for daring to speak with her, though he hadn’t known they were related. It filled him with a kind of warmth.

_Didn’t I tell you? Everything is good in this town. Nothing wrong. Not a soul out of place._

Somehow, Daniel found himself opening up a few more drinks. Shane didn’t speak again, but he didn’t make him leave- he handed the bottles over willingly, sliding them over with a glance like he was checking to make sure he was still there. They fell into a comfortable rhythm like that, and eventually, Daniel’s thoughts became a tickle into the back of his skull. He was just an autonomous shell again, opening, lifting, and drinking, the best possible version of himself. Somehow, the gap between them slowly began to close.

Eventually, a heavy drop smacked the center of his head, then his shoulder. They were icicles, startling him back into movement. The stars winked, hailing in the storm clouds on the horizon. 

Shane blinked. "Supposed to rain around 1:30, I think." “What time is it?” He checked his non-existent watch, staring at it for a little too long. "Ah, it's…” His vision was too blurred. 

”Do you have to go?” Shane paused, squeezing the marble between his fingers. “Are you...” The question faded into the rustling trees, and Shane gently shook his head. “What’m I...”

”I... yeah. I should go.” He patted his pocket, having the distinct feeling he should call someone to cancel something, but the name melted away. He stood up too fast and swayed on his feet, tipping his head into his hand. “Guh. The last time I stayed out in the rain...” 

He must’ve looked over to see the bottles his body had previously hidden, because Shane muttered, “Hell. You tryin’ to join the national competition?” His face was slumped close to the lake, and his words came out in slurred whispers. “You’ve still got a future. Be careful with that,” he murmured into the water, “Be careful.” Shane fell into a half-trance. The wind reared up, blowing cold rain into his face.

“Sure.” Daniel didn’t know why he hesitated at the word. “Shane?” He didn’t respond. He moved towards him, slowly reaching out his hand, but stopped. Shane’s back raised and lowered with steady breaths. He stumbled back, hearing a piece of paper crumple in his pocket. With a mumbled farewell, he staggered off into the warning whistles of rain. _Nothing dangerous_.


	9. One Small Storm

A wet spot appeared in the middle of the page, and Penny set her eyes towards the sky. “Alex, I think it’s starting to rain.” 

“Yeah. So it is.” They didn’t feel like moving. Alex lay on the grass, feeling small drops tap, tap on his expressionless face. They let the clouds pass over their eyes and cover the blooming stars. Penny clutched her book close to her chest. “At least,” She said at last, “At least you know what true love is.” 

“Hm? We both do,” he told her, “You were just telling me about it from that book.” She shoved her materials in a deep purple bag, gazing in the direction of her trailer. He knew they were both remembering, but Penny had no clue. Sam never mentioned a thing.

“In words, I guess. But you know more than words.” She stood and hoisted the heavy bag over her shoulder, which Alex offered to carry for her. 

“Thank you for sitting with me,” she smiled, “But you don’t have to bother with anything else. We can just both go.” She stepped out from under the tree, covering her head with her bag, and carefully walked her way home.

———————

Alex slowly sipped hot cocoa as the rain pelted the window, rapping his fingers on the counter. The rain was kind before, a peaceful shower, but it steadily became a battering ram looming over their heads. “It’s like we can’t go a month without some kind of dumb storm,” he fretted aloud. “It’s like everything’s all... out of whack.” He habitually checked his submerged eggs, feeling as if time would never move forward. For a lot of people- mostly the weird ones- deep, heavy storms were comforting, but they only made Alex anxious. He hated being stuck inside, because then he was forced to think about... to notice things. Nothing complicated, nothing heavy on it’s own, but items that latched together and formed a garbage pile in the middle of his uncluttered world. Things like the chipped paint in the corner, or the sound of shingles being ripped off the roof. An old pamphlet he kept neglecting to throw out, or a book he never read. The flooding ceiling, the chipped tiles, Grandpa swearing at the TV, his mom’s dusty picture frame. Drops sticking to the window like tears on skin. A strange red ornament that blinked in and out of existence on the wind chimes.

“Well, there is always your weights,” Granny said, knocking him back into the kitchen. He watched her flip an egg. The stove was always covered in pots and pans; he never understood how she could do that so smoothly. He tried, once, and ended out hiding a small burn mark for two weeks.

”Sure,” he shrugged. “But you know I can’t handle the rain.” He shivered, and idly wondered about Penny. “It’s just- inside, there’s nothing else to _do_ ,” he quickly added. “I would be out there by now, but I’m still in my shorts watching the water fall through the ceiling. It _sucks.”_

Granny reached over and squeezed his arm. “You could always take a break, dear. You’re always _doing something_. I’m glad for it, but there’s always room to slow down and think.” 

“Think?” He snorted. “I already know where I’m going. Slowing down would just keep me from all of it, you know?” He placed his mug onto the counter. “I have everything figured out. Gridball. You guys. Dusty. Haley,” he counted off on his fingers. “All of those small things around me when I make it big, move to Zuzu, and make serious cash. What’s to think about?”

“I do suppose that’s straightforward,” Granny sighed. She clicked off the stove and folded the egg onto a plate in one swift motion. “Well, we can only work with what we’re given. That’s just how it is, and we just have to adapt. There will be calmer days,” Granny nibbled at a biscuit, finding it to her satisfaction. “In fact, I would say this isn’t so bad! Anyway, while it may not suit us, the plants outside must be pretty happy. Especially the farm!” She delighted. “Such a handsome and dedicated young man- he must be thankful.” 

“Huh. I guess so.” Without looking at it, he poured the rest of his drink into the sink. He turned on the water and let it flow through his fingers, directing the color down the drain. He briefly recalled the night the farmer visited, and with it how rapidly he fled their house; his explanations were so jumbled that Alex fell asleep trying to decipher them. He was, admittedly, disappointed- but it was only natural. He’d been hanging with a girl for so long that he was kind of alienated from his own people, especially a guy actually around his own age. If he stayed longer... “You think he knows what he’s doing over there? You think everything looks alright?” His rapping fingers were now joined by the uncontrollable tapping of his foot.

”I’m certain it must look better than that _mess_ ,” she concluded. “Just looking at it was bad for my knees.” Granny didn’t normally sound disdainful, but anything that she considered “unhealthy” was usually looked at with some criticism. It was probably the only color Alex thought was strange for her to wear.

Alex’s timer went off, so he strained out his pot of boiling water and began to de-shell some eggs. “He might need a lot of help, though, with everything else,” He said. “There’s probably always something to do on the farm. I wonder if I could...” 

”That’s nice, dear, but I’d prefer you inside.” It was said with finality. “Set the table, and be careful with your fingers on that pot.”

“Yeah, no, it was just a passing thought,” he mumbled. He grabbed from the drawers behind him and haphazardly threw utensils and napkins at the table. “Just for the exercise and man-to-man, maybe. For Dusty, too.” _He would like Dusty there, right?_ “I don’t _really_ want to-“

“That does remind me! I wanted to bring my cookies up to him sometime, but that would be tough with the walk and the rain.”

”I could bring them up,” He replied automatically. He cleared his throat. “Just so you don’t have to go, obviously. It shouldn’t be trouble for me... B-but not just any time. I made a few plans with-” The doorbell rang, stuttering out an ancient and obnoxious tune. He peeked out the window to see a bobbing, bright pink umbrella. “Oh. Well, speak of the devil,” he said, Haley turned, waving her phone in the air and rolling her eyes. _Check your messages, idiot!_ she mouthed through the rain. She looked miserable, but she was otherwise completely clean and dry. 

“Is she coming inside?” Granny asked. He shrugged, patting his pockets. “Oh, she’s just standing there- Alex, go on and let her in!” 

“Oh, nope, she’s not coming in,” his eyes scanned the screen. “She says, and I quote, ‘Emily is being totally weird and wants us to go together Zuzu, so... blah blah... I need to amuse her so she leaves me alone for the rest of the week- blah, blah- love you, don’t be an idiot ‘cause I won’t be there to help you.’ Wow, thanks,” he mouthed to her. It was actually mostly a message chiding him for the times he’d run over to her house without an umbrella, only to find himself locked out, but he decided against reading that aloud. He texted back a quick “cool,” held back the impulse to put up a finger in front of his grandmother, and waved. She stuck her tongue out at him and twirled off into the street. The rain flew right off her, as if she was too perfect to touch.

”Oh,” Granny sighed, “I bet you miss her already. You two,” she said sweetly. “Always, always attached at the hip. Such a sweet pair.” 

“Sure? Well, we have been best friends since I moved here,” he responded to her, “So I guess it’s sorta natural.” He popped a boiled egg into his mouth whole, an action Haley would’ve hated. He should’ve done it while she was in the window. Granny chuckled.

“Best friends and now _high-school sweethearts_ ,” she told him. “Just like George and I were.” She lovingly patted his cheek before turning back to tend the bacon.

“Wha’ you mean?” He chewed through the egg, which he had the unfortunate displeasure of noticing still had bits of eggshell on it. “Granny, wha’ are you-“ He swallowed painfully. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Granny giggled into the pan. “Oh, I didn’t say _anything,_ dear.”

But even a partial illiterate could see what was written all over her face.

”Granny. Granny, I am definitely _not_ ready for that kind of commitment. Like, not even close.” Granny cracked another egg into a bowl, smiling to herself. “I don’t like that look you’re giving me. Or, not giving me. Nope. No way.” He leaned against the counter adjacent to the stove, crossing his arms like a child. 

“I’m not _rushing_ you, Alex. But it’s a fact that...”

“Facts are for textbooks, and I don’t care about any of those,” he groaned.

“Bah. We aren’t oblivious.” Grandpa wheeled himself into the kitchen under the noise of the TV, inserting himself into the conversation. “Now, I know you like to _fool around-_ “

“George!”

“Bah. I know our boy, Evelyn.” He raised his eyebrows, and Alex pretended to be interested in the grease that was shimmering around the bacon. He flushed. “I’m just saying- your grandmother is right. You two are a couple for a reason. When you’re done having your fun, that young woman is going to be waiting for you.”

”Right. Well... Right.” He picked an eggshell off his tongue, avoiding their eyes. Every time anyone hinted at anything like that, not to mention his grandparents, he more or less felt like a giant jackass. “So the thing is...” He hesitated. There was, after all, a reason he didn’t divulge this information to them. But if he fixed it right after, then it would be fine, right? “For any of that to be in consideration... I kind of need to be with her first.” He held his breath. 

They tilted their heads. “Kid, you get hit too hard in the head?” Grandpa asked. 

“We-ll... I...” He drew out his words, hoping they would fill in the rest so he wouldn’t have to say it. They just stared at him, the question marks growing out of their heads almost tangible. “I... am... not. Dating her. Right now. But-“ The rain crashed like a hammer behind him.

He discovered that Granny could gasp for an auditorium full of people, and she broke out into immediate hysteria. “Alex! oh, Alex!” He cringed as she folded her arms against her chest. “Oh my goodness. What happened? She was just in the window, why- Who decided to-”

“Okay, hold on, let me explain!” He held up his arms defensively. “It was nothing! Nothing _serious_. We just... at the time we felt like we fell out of it, but-“

”Fell out of it?” Grandpa cried. “Fell out of it- you fall out of an airplane, not a relationship!”

“Oh, my, my... When? When did this happen? Through those messages right now? Goodness, what a horrible way to do things...”

“No, it was- winter? And it’s spring now, _but_ -”

She looked scandalized. “What? But she was just in the window! Why would she- why, that’s-“

“That’s just _horrible_ boy,” his grandfather chimed.

“Why, this is such a terrible shock to the system... I...” The collective grumbling turned incoherent. The bacon was starting to smell like fire, so he tried to inconspicuously flip the knob- he cringed at the sound. 

After a minute, Granny seemed to collect her thoughts “Well I suppose I should ask if you’re alright.” He exhaled, but only slightly.

”Yes, Granny. I’m fine,” he reassured, “Don’t worry. It’s nothing life changing, I-”

”It wasn’t because of that _game_ was it? Because you know I support it only as long as it’s reasonable.“ 

“Hold on, George. Let’s just be...” She didn’t bring herself to say the word _calm_. “Why did you wait so long to tell us that you were... That it was...” she waved for the words in the air. “...That you were done for?”

”That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he said. “We aren’t _really_. It was just a kind of... break, I guess.” It was only half a lie, but he bit his tongue. “I never felt like I lost her, so... What was the point in saying anything?” 

This, at the least, seemed to placate them. “Then... Do you still love her?” He cringed. That was always a tough question to listen to, never mind answer.

“Yeah,” he told them anyway. “I guess I still feel the same way about her that I always have.” he said. “Like I said- my best friend. I’m not just letting her go. And alright, I knew you would react this way, so I’m just letting you know I’m planning to do things right in a few days or whatever. Just no... no _marriage_ ,” he retched.

They both sighed in relief. “That’s good, dear. That’s lovely, dear.” Granny sunk low into a chair and fanned herself with a napkin.

”Feh. You’re trying to send me to an early grave, boy.” He looked at him sternly. “Now, I need you to look me in the eye, and tell me you aren’t going to let something so _silly_ get in the way of things again.”

He rolled his eyes. His grandfather always had to make things so serious. ”No way, sir.” 

”Swear it,” he said. 

He sucked in breath through his teeth. “I _swear_. Are we okay now?” 

Grandpa offered him the closest thing he could come to a smile. “Of course, so long as you mean it. Now stop shoving those eggs into your mouth and sit down for a proper breakfast.”

—————————

Today was the day for two major things, and Daniel was prepared for neither.

Robin popped open a case of tools, and Daniel tried his damndest to keep her umbrella steady above their crouching bodies. He was starting to think that she was crazy- no, he was _certain_ she was crazy- because she pulled around that dark and indistinct morning with blueprints in her hands and the remainder of the sun popping out through her eyes. He was still struggling with his pants when she knocked, and being as fired up and impatient as she was, she looked right at him through the open curtains. He screamed, she laughed, he fell flat on his face... Horrible. At the very least, the humor of the situation alleviated some of the throbbing behind his eyes.

”Are you sure about this?” He shivered through the rain. Even though he was wearing his warmest, most water-resistant long sleeve (his jackets and coats were probably lost in Zuzu), he was about as waterlogged as it got. “I meant to call to postpone, but I got… busy.” He licked his lips. “There’s always later, right?” He talked both to Robin and to a rather large green orb, which placed itself in an ominously obvious spot on the hood of Robin’s truck. They regarded each other. He was almost certain it was the first one he’d ever noticed, but it looked rather serious, and made no movements or mouse-like squeaks. It gazed on him with what he assumed was contempt- but for what reason, it was entirely unclear.

“Oh, pish-posh, of course!” Robin beamed, carefully securing a panda-themed pencil behind her ear. The grumpy apple didn’t share that energy. “Wet wood isn’t a joy to work with, but I promised I would work on your house!” 

”Sure, but I’m not worried about the wood,” he said. As of now, she was untouched. She drove her old beat-up pickup there, and parked it right up close to his drop-off box, so she wasn’t impacted thus far- but there was no way she could do construction without becoming mush. Really sick mush.

”That’s sweet, Danny, but I do this for a living. All a little water does is clear off the sweat. Hey- you said you didn’t have an umbrella, right?” She fastened a shabby-looking tool belt to her waist.

“Yeah... I left behind a lot of things that were probably important when I came here.... like an idiot.” The more he properly unpacked, the more he realized he just threw whatever he found into a box for someone else to deal with later. She tsked.

”Yeah, that was a little stupid,” she admitted. “The weather here becomes even more unpredictable every year. Gotta make sure to plan well,” She grabbed three different measuring tapes, scrutinizing them closely. The wind shifted, so he teetered on his toes trying to adjust the umbrella. “Like me. Lost my best axe the other day, but,“ She seemed to produce one from nowhere, “That hasn’t stopped me. I don’t have a team behind me, so I always bring a lot of extras!”

“I was already late! I wasn’t planning on dealing with weather! I have unfortunate tunnel vision,” he defended pathetically. 

”Oh, boy. Do me a favor and never use that excuse on a date,” she said. “You don’t have a girlfriend, right? Or did you forget her back in the big city, too?” She chuckled at her own joke, then reached over to give his shoulder a squeeze. 

”Ah, I…” He cleared his throat, shifting away from her grasp. Something raked against his skull, and the corner of his lips lifted. He couldn’t quite remember what he was going to say, but it probably wasn’t important. “You kids are all alike. Take my umbrella, then,” and she wiped her hands onto her pants as if cleaning herself of the object.

”Wha- are you sure?”

“Yep. It’s good to be prepared. Oh!” From the depths of the metal box, she pulled out a golden key. “Lewis wanted me to give this to you a while ago, and I nearly forgot! I don’t even remember putting it in there,” Covered in what appeared to be sawdust, she wiped that on her pants as well. “It was your grandfathers, but I’ve had it for the longest time. It’s to the Center, so it’s useless,” she explained, “But you can keep it as a souvenir.” 

He took this key into his hand, feeling relieved. In all honesty, he forgot to simply ask Lewis to unlock the place- he was almost certain it wouldn’t have been any trouble. Still, he held it up for the creature to see, but it had evidently taken it’s leave. But as for the umbrella... “Robin, I can just get my own-“

She sprang up, surprising him into falling back onto the soaked staircase. “Now! About the payment!” She roared before he could disagree. He sighed defeatedly at the silver pole stuck to hand, the small key in his other, but smiled nonetheless. Even on particularly dreary days, there was always something kind. No longer under the umbrella, Robin was almost immediately swept up in a current of rain and wind, gaining a slick new layer to her bare skin. As promised, though, she looked completely unbothered. His ass was not.

“Uh... Are you now accepting checks?” 

”Nope!” She turned her back to him, opening her arms to the vast area that could technically be known as a farm. “I’ve decided that you’ll give me supplies for my projects. I already have a lot of my own for this one, but it will be good for restocking purposes.” She stood straight with her hands on her hips in an almost superhero-like pose, practically glowing. 

He moved beside her, putting the umbrella back over her head. “So... all the wood and stone and stuff? It’s a good thing I’ve been keeping it around so far...” He had a sneaking suspicion that she decided on it simply because of that reason. 

”Oh, have you? I hadn’t noticed,” she laughed, conveniently turning away the sheltered wood stacks. “The farm is coming along, by the way.” Daniel flinched, comparing her flawless house to his roughly outlined farm. 

“Thanks. It’s, uh... I’m kind of proud of it.” That wasn’t a lie, but... He was lucky the conditions warped her view; he shuddered to think of what she could say about the unfinished row of fences, the disorganized sprouts, the makeshift scarecrow that seemed to attract more crows than it repelled.

“Just keep at it, and you and I will lift it out of the mud. Of course,” she turned, narrowing her eyes. “You shouldn’t do it at the expense of your health. Don’t think I didn’t notice those cuts and bruises…”

”Oh, you’re one to talk,” he rolled his eyes. “Come on, you could still-“

”Danny,” he cowered under her stern gaze. “Today is probably the best day to get this done before your home flies away. Poof,” she said. “If it makes you feel any better, I was Dr. Harvey’s first patient a few years ago, and I haven’t gone since. I’ve had a lot of time doing this, you know,” 

”Alright, fine,” he conceded. “You can go ahead… But I’m going to find a way to pay you, eventually.” 

Robin grinned. “So,” she clapped her hands together, “With everything in place, you can get to your business and I can get to mine! I promise you, Danny, it’s going to look fan-tastic!” She was practically bouncing with excitement.

“Okay. Well, then...” He hesitated, rolling his foot into the mud. “You’re sure you don’t need me? I could be the start of your new team,” he joked. He knew she wouldn’t accept, not on his “day off,” but he felt wrongly for leaving her alone in the rain to do this for him. 

“Nope. Absolutely not.” She shook her head. “The only time I’d ever want a team is for the Community Center, but that place just doesn’t want to be fixed.”

”Okay. Well, then...” he repeated. He suddenly jerked his arm towards her. “Are you sure you don’t want the umbrella?” She wagged her finger at him. 

”Get out of here, Danny,” she insisted. “If you don’t have any plans, then go socialize! Meet a girl or something. Maybe not my daughter. Nah, just kidding, I wouldn’t blame you- go on!”

He choked. “Yeah, sure, alright!” He agreed in a strangled voice, a mixture of sudden pain and stifled laughter. “The door inside is unlocked, by the way!” He called behind him. The strangeness of that last comment stuck with him, but it was only later that he remembered why.

  



	10. The Color Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Note: I had to make edits to some of the previous chapters for things to start making some sort of sense*

They were not a web, but a freely flowing piece of thread that flowed gently into the morning breeze.

Or... whipped around in the morning rain, as Mother Nature might have had it. There were a surprising amount of people who stuck their tousled heads out of doors, scurrying along so as to avoid the rain but only splashing themselves in the process. It was nothing like Zuzu; there was a kind of joy in their scuttle, a kind of self-aware laughter, the complete opposite to a stride charged with animosity. He started to think it a long while before, but his conviction only grew- Pelican Town was the softest dream. 

No, really. He felt like he couldn’t wake up.

He reached the general store, boots sloshing in the river-like puddles that developed in stray footfalls. Daniel paused about the bushes, twisting the shaft of Robin’s red-and-orange umbrella over in his hands as he watched it ripple in the current. He watched the stairs, but didn’t move towards them.

The Community Center loomed over him, looking intimidating in the dull shadow. Despite this, the closer he was to the place, the better he felt... There was a buzzing, an energy that started somewhere in his chest, then extended out towards his fingertips, making a winding motion all the way up his body. But still, as much as he was physically drawn to the place, a small frustrating inch of himself acted as a restraint. It kept repeating that one word, though he’d since thrown the paper into a dumpster.

If he was honest- and this was a strange thing to admit for such a unique presence- he had barely given _them_ (because he assumed there were at least more than two) too much thought. At least, they hadn’t weighed much on his mind. In fact, he didn’t give much of anything a second thought- maybe not even a first. He just... did. Things like telling Robin the door was unlocked- he just did, though for a long while he wouldn’t even for... For... He struggled to remember the name, letters and faces running murky in his senses. It was someone from Zuzu, to be sure, someone previously important, but he couldn’t think of them now. But none of that was deeply bothersome either. 

Just when he was about to step up the stairs, he saw a bright blue hoodie slouching down the path. “Hey,” he waved, “Shane.” His cloth ensemble was quickly becoming a second layer of skin, and he was practically wearing sponges for sneakers. He had been sort of nice before, almost too nice in allowing him too many free beers- on a Joja salary, that was definitely costly. He figured he could try to return that with a few favors. “Hey,” he repeated. Shane was scrunched up tightly, like he was trying to swallow pain. But by now, the throbbing behind Daniel’s eyes was entirely non-existent. “Shane?”

The hoodie paused in front of him, turning his neck only enough for the side of his face to be visible. What little he could see of the bags under his eyes were only increasingly defined, and his face was pale. “What?” Bitterness was back in his voice. Daniel hesitated.

“Um... Do you need an umbrella?” He offered, “You look like you’re becoming one with Joja.” 

Shane squeezed his eyes shut and huffed. “Stop talking to me.” 

Daniel blinked. “Okay...” he said slowly. “Why?” 

”I don’t know you. Just… Leave me alone.” Shane’s eyes focused on a point somewhere far behind him. 

”We don’t have to know each other for me to be nice,” Daniel frowned, “And anyway, I thought we were-“

Shane’s hands dug deeper into his pockets, and he sucked in a long breath. ”Friends? No thanks. I don’t need any of those.” He pressed his lips together and tried to walk past him, but Daniel didn’t move. 

”I was going to say ‘cool,’ but…”

“Fuck off. Still need to fix your breath.” Daniel raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to catch Shane’s gaze. Don’t get too close to me,” he said, “Or we’ll both regret it.” There was a long silence, and just when Daniel decided to respect his bad mood, the moment was broken by a speedy rattle.

“Oh, fuck! Get out of the way!” A blur raced towards them, and with his amazing reflexes, he froze. He immediately braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut and preparing his vocal chords for a manly scream of pain- but when he was knocked to the ground, other than the feeling of the clumped dirt below him... _You don’t feel a thing._. He opened his eyes and wiped his face.

”What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, Sam?” Shane boomed. “Holy shit. Are you trying to kill us? Why are you skateboarding _now_?” Shane managed to sidestep them entirely, and was standing untouched on the side of the road, fuming. 

“Dude, I am so sorry! Here, let me-“ 

“No, don’t pull him up like that!” He pushed Sam aside. “Here,” Shane crouched down beside him, seeming somewhat properly concerned despite his squinty glare. “Does your head feel alright?” His voice wasn’t tender, not even close, but it wasn’t particularly abrasive, either. Just a little… rough. He put his face so close to his that he could feel warm puffs of breath on his forehead, and see the soft edges of his face. His hood had fallen off. Daniel breathed shallowly. “Y-yeah,” he shivered in the water, “I think I’m good.” He lay stiff on the ground as Shane took another moment to properly examine him. Still, their eyes never met. 

“Not dead,” he concluded, pulling away. Sam pulled him up with both hands (“Slowly,” Shane advised), keeping his battered skateboard tucked under one arm. “Are you really alright?” Sam assumed a tense, almost military-like stance as Daniel casually brushed himself off.

He shook himself out, rolling his shoulders, carefully stretching his limbs. Nothing was even sore. “Yeah, actually... I feel completely fine,” he shrugged. Daniel didn’t even feel a slight sting. Though everyone’s hair was now completely soaked and falling over their faces, he could tell they weren’t convinced. “Just wet, is all.” 

“Well, wait a minute, alright? It could take a moment to set in,” Sam said. “And your arm- the bandage,” he nervously bit his lip, “Are you sure that’s okay?”

Daniel looked down to see the exposed bandage, as well as a bit of his sleeve, was now frayed and covered in mud. He gently touched the wound, trying to feel for anything out of place. Horrible internet anecdotes flashed through his mind, but he felt nothing out of the ordinary. “I’ll have to change that, but I feel completely fine,” he said honestly. He fixed his destroyed sleeve as best as he could. “Where’s the umbrella?” 

Shane sighed. “Here.” He forcefully shoved the umbrella over Daniel and Sam, trying and failing to keep himself out of the huddle. He tried to shift away, but just managed to bump into the both of them. Even through the layer of water, he was incredibly warm. Shane’s frown became deeper.

Sam bared his teeth awkwardly. “Hey, is that Robin’s?” Daniel nodded, but Shane shot him a look. “Right! I’m really sorry… I was in a rush because of work and I just had this idea with the wheels and the water and the...” he cleared his throat. “A _stupid_ idea, obviously. But-”

“Idiot,” Shane muttered. His shadowed eyes bored holes into the cliff side. “Now I’ll have to deal with Morris for the both of us...”

”You would? Oh, thank goodness…” His face was red, and he roughly pressed a few fingers against his temple. “But... Are you sure everything’s alright? I felt that hit in my whole body!” Sam fidgeted with his skateboard, bouncing slightly on his heels. “Okay, the Doc is right there, we can get towels, and me and Shane can just-“

“ _You_ can take him.” Shane tried to shove the umbrella into Sam’s hand.

”Hey, that’s horrible bedside manner-“

“No, that’s alright,” he said hastily. “No doctors.” Daniel flexed his arm, but no matter which way he twisted it, nothing happened. “See? Nothing. No pain.”

Sam placed his hand on his face, allowing his shoulders to relax. “Thank Yoba,” he sighed. “My mom always said I would get involved in a lawsuit, and I thought today was the day.”

“Are we done here?” Shane asked impatiently, all traces of slight worry washed off and replaced with deep annoyance. 

”Wait, Sha-“

“I’m going,” he said, ignoring him. He shoved the umbrella shaft into Sam’s hand, pulling his hood back over his head. He pulled the strings laughably tight and began to stalk off.

“Hey, wait up!” Sam called after him, but he was ignored. “Ah, he’ll end out waiting for me in front of the doors.” He dismissed. “You sure you don’t even need a towel?” He handed Daniel the spiral umbrella. 

”No, I’m good. Perfect, actually,” he smiled. 

“Great! Then, if you could just never mention this to my mom…” He jogged backwards down the path. “Unless you need anything. See you around!” He waved, then turned and ran at light speed. “Shane! Hey, Shane-“ He heard a yelp at what was probably Sam pouncing onto Shane’s back. He stood a moment, watching them disappear from view. Shane was moody, wasn’t he? He wasn’t a quitter, though- he’d just try him again later. But, for now...

As a sort of test, he held out his free arm in front of him, holding the umbrella shaft directly over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, and without hesitating, slammed it down, hard, directly onto the bandage.

Nothing.

Was that supposed to be significant?

  


  
Daniel fumbled, closing the umbrella awkwardly against the ivy-covered wall of the building. He shimmied along the ledge-protected area, going over to peek through the windows; but with the musty film of vines and other less delightful secretions of nature, he couldn’t make out much. From what he could see, though, the place was a rotting, crumbling mess of epic proportions- and that was saying something, considering he lived in a place where the ceiling often peeled off to become part of the floor. He wondered how Robin was doing... After all her beautiful hard work, he hoped she didn’t take a break and amble around the farm… He checked to make sure his phone turned on.

He slipped the key into his hand, warm from the last hours spent in his pocket, and carefully climbed the two crumbling stone steps to the door. He tested the knob- while the door was missing a few bits, it still held strong on its hinges, and the doorknob didn’t fall off or anything like he expected. He was struck by a short-lived wave of adrenaline as he stuck in the key. 

He stepped in, choked by what seemed to be a thick layer of solid air. “Hello?” He coughed between gasps of breath, “Is anyone here?” The only reply was the quick, rhythmic pitter-patter of water falling through the floor. The main room was large, rotted, and almost completely empty, and he had to avoid spots where the wood gave way to a pile of thick mud. It smelled like wet carpet.

There were a few footprints that stuck out among the thin layers of dust, leading to a fireplace and subsequently deeper into the halls, but there were no signs of anything recent, let alone smaller than a human foot. Except, of course, the spiders. A small brown hut occupied the corner of the room, but it looked dark, endless, and completely empty. Unfortunately, the spiderwebs were occupied.

“Hello?” He tried again. “Little guy? Poke? Are you...” A prickly feeling moved about his neck, which momentarily made him go static. He felt like he heard something whisper, beckoning him into the darkened hallway. His body moved without his opinion, plunging into the eerie space, moved by the voice. _Right here,_ it said. He stuck his head into a room on his left, hearing his heart pulse. The floor spoke in warning groans under his feet.

Leaning crookedly on the wall in the corner of the room was a stone statue, an imitation of a person in a meditative pose. Both of its mismatched jeweled eyes were wide open, and one of its hands were raised in an almost-wave, like it was frozen in half-greeting. A deep crack ran along the center of its face. 

Something electric bloomed deep within his chest. He drew closer.

“You shouldn’t touch our artifacts,” came a deep voice, “They can be difficult to understand. Daniel, is it?” 

He jumped back, shaking the static off his limbs, and bumped right into a bright, colorful wall.

His jaw fell open.

”Oh, dear,” said the disembodied voice, “I knew some of us should’ve waited outside.” 

It was chaos. Coating every wall were glowing, abstract figures, hundreds of different shapes and sizes- they hung to wall fixtures or each other, making an almost monstrous squeaky mass. They pushed, shoved, and wailed for what he came to realize was the right to chatter at him- or, in almost too many cases, to touch him. They gibbered incessantly towards him. “Um, sorry, I don’t- Poke? Where...” Pictures, bottles, and furniture all clattered to the floor- even a heavy shelf came crashing to the ground. He felt like he was trying to look directly at a clump of colorful fallen stars- loud, bumbling, and ferocious ones. 

“Dear me!” Their bickering did not cease at the honeyed voice, but they did give a brief moment’s pause. “I would’ve hoped we would’ve shown better manners for our guest! Goodness, it is a good thing he can’t understand you,” Daniel turned over himself one, two, three times trying to locate the voice, but among the blinking colors his senses were confused. “Oh! If you would look up here, please...” Following the instructions, he was stunned by a green, double-stemmed critter balanced on the frame of the door. Unlike the rest, which were luminescent in their entire being, this one contained two living flames; they slowly fluttered throughout the body, like fireflies caught in space, making translucent the spaces they filled. They circled each other in a sort of celebratory dance when Daniel’s eyes fell on the stranger, which toted a black object that was almost bigger than its body. It lowered the item, tapping the screen vigorously with one arm. “This room is far too small. Will you join me in the main room?” It peered at him over the glass.

“Uh... Y-yeah,” he offered with difficultly. “I guess that’s what I’m here for, right? What’s- Gah!“

Without warning, the monstrous blob pounced on him- they weren’t that much unlike a hive of bees, except they weighed the same amount as _air_. “Woah! What the-“ Even so, they catapulted him forward, somehow guiding his limbs back the way he entered. “Come along, come along,” The double-leafed chimed, ”If a few could be so kind as to lock that door...” It calmly distributed orders, tip-tapping on the unknown machine, walking a distance ahead of the pack. “Let’s get you situated, yes?”

He was abruptly dropped in front of the fireplace, a crumbling fixture stuck to the back wall of the main room, which was quickly lighted by means he didn’t see. It burned dangerously, but its roar was doused by the buzzing hive. They were a blur- the room was overtaken by a living aurora. “U-uh, thanks,” he choked, “But I don’t need anything!” 

They drowned him in mountains of towels and blankets, dusty and frayed with age, throwing them on top of him with such force that a gridball coach would’ve been jealous. One particularly tenacious one offered him a lit match, which he quickly extinguished before he became a human bonfire. “Really, I don’t think this is necessary,” he tried to say, but he was stifled by a thick comforter being flung over his head. He even had to shrug off multiple moth-eaten jackets before he could breathe again. He would be dusting himself off for days- after the dust dried, of course. 

“Make sure he is as comfortable as possible!” It called. The honeyed one paced by the mouth of the fire, typing with excited ferocity. “I assure you, the process will be entirely painless. Do we have pillows?” A smaller fellow paused in front of him. “Why not? Hmm... Ah! I think there was tea left in the-“

“No, that’s fine,” he cut in. He didn’t imagine stale tea would do his constitution well. “What process? Who are you guys?” He was breathless. “And where did you all come from? The place was empty, and then...” He motioned broadly as if to whisk the words from the air. “Is that like a translator or something?”

“I found it quite recently. Very useful for an old Junimo like myself. Isn’t it lovely?” _Junimo._ it hopped to the ground. “But we’ve no time for idle chatter. I present to you- the cauldron!” His head spun with havoc, chatter, and questions as a solid metal mass appeared behind him. The floor cried under its weight. Droves of Junimos poured out of the hut in the corner like liquid.

A plastic frog-shaped mug was thrown into his arms. “Um... no tea, sorry,” he said. From inside the cup came an offended squeak, and Poke stuck a stem out from the slippery depths.

“Hey, it’s you!” Poke waggled an arm and mounted the blankets, climbing just until he could pause at the tip of his nose. “So you aren’t mad at me anymore?” As an answer, it- the Junimo?- lightly tapped his nose and sparkled pleasantly. 

”Good,” he smiled, “Because this is the most confusing day of my life. And I have a question- are you guys called _Junimos?_ ” Poke’s jumped up and down, brimming with light. “Holy crap, alright!” _Junimos. Ju_ ni _mos_. It was a fun word- he liked it. They were both elated that he’d finally picked up a scrap of knowledge- even though it was relatively small. He held the mug closely to his chest.

”Perfect!” The leader, lifted to the opening by the chain, dropped something into the cauldron, causing a deep green smoke to rise with the scents of wood and grass. He was at once surrounded by a tight circle of greens and purples, reds and blues. “Now, no time for ceremony. If our guest would just step towards it for a drink...” 

“Oh!” He warily eyed the smoke that rose from it. “Um… What for? And… What if I don’t want to?” A squabble broke out among the crowd. Poke pinched his ear.

”It’s a potion,” the smooth machine voice explained (it really didn’t sound robotic at all), “And with it, you will be able to do many things- but above all, communicate with us about matters we are barred from discussing.” There it was again- stuff they can’t say. Abruptly, the leader paused. “Are you alright with having such a... rambunctious one on your shoulder?” Poke growled, something he wasn’t accustomed to hearing. The leader huffed.

”It’s fine,” he said. “You were saying?” 

“Right. Then…” It continually glanced at his shoulder. “If you want to speak with us, in actuality,” it waved the device, chirping, “And with no limits, you have to become one with nature. If you refuse, and by no choice of our own, we will be unable to proceed any further.” The din of the crowd ceased in wait. He followed along closely, but he barely understood a word that was spoken. “You have free will, of course,” The next words were typed carefully, with a steady seriousness. “But you should know... Many souls are at stake.” Even the fireflies stuttered to a halt, suspended in the limbo of a halted breath. 

Daniel almost laughed- it would’ve been horribly hilarious if he was able to give an answer as callous as “no.” What would he have done then, walked on out after all this fanfare? After they’d really, really piqued his interest? Plus, within the Center… He didn’t mind much at all.

“Alright,” He shrugged. Poke gripped his hair as he rose upwards, towering over the rainbow sea. None were on the walls now; they grounded themselves for his approach, gazing upwards with... reverence? A few even offered trembling bows. He shifted under their holy looks, trying to look only at the frog-mug in front of him. A chain of Junimos unfurled from the ceiling as he approached, a red one on the end dearly gripping a cracked toy ladle. It avoided his gaze just as much as he did. He looked down into the cauldron.

Instantly, his gut boiled, trying to claw its way of of his body. He swallowed. Bubbling in the wide depths was a thick, gelatinous liquid that moved and pulsated as if something in it were _alive_. Leaves, moss, and mushrooms coated the top, pirouetting at the burst of a bubble. “So, about that tea...” he began. His ear was yanked once more. 

He held out the mug. The chain painstakingly gathered and poured the liquid(?), a heavy, globby substance that tried to merge with the plastic. “Quickly, now,” it urged, but he stared at it for a little longer. Finally, he closed his eyes, downing the liquid in one gulp. In a lucky turn of events, he barely felt it slide down his throat.

“Hey, that wasn’t so b...” Poke squealed as his knees gave out from under him. His vision was momentarily clouded by a deep green fog. Void and green...

”Woah, easy there!” 

”Is he alright?”

”Did it work?”

”Is he breathing?”

“ _Someone_ should’ve gotten the pillows,”

“H-hello?” Daniel blinked rapidly as the image faded, alarmed at the dozens of new voices piercing his ears. Poke stood by his shoulder, looking at him with deep concern. He sat up; apparently, the piles of blankets and clothes acted as a safety.

”He’s alive! Can you hear me?” He looked over, making eye contact with a pink purple spotted Junimo. Though certain the voice came from there, he was notified of the fact that they did not have mouths.

He blinked. “I think…” he swallowed, “I think I can hear all of you.” He felt momentarily that he was outside his body. A roar went throughout the crowd, more destruction and arguing; glass shattered. The pink Junimo sighed disapprovingly, but patted Poke lovingly on the back, nodding. The blue Junimo again climbed to his shoulder. 

“Poke!” he leaned over towards his companion, “Does that mean I can hear you? Is all of the trouble over?” Poke squeaked with great force, hugging his neck. “Yeah, yeah, you’re excited. But what have you been trying to say?” But where he expected words, his ears were only met with dozens of small peeps. The smile slid from his face.

“I-I’m sorry. I still can’t understand you...” The blue Junimo pulled away slowly, the light and energy dimming from its core. A few creatures waved desperately up to him, believing their voices could be heard; but slowly, gravely, the joy from the crowd tapered off. 

“Yes... I’m afraid that some of our voices are lost.” Daniel looked up, seeing the double-stemmed Junimo on the cauldron still carrying the black device. “It’s unfortunate, but that is the effect of fifteen long years of exile from our home.”

“I’m... so sorry,” he mumbled. Poke, once unable to keep still, now gazed forlornly at the ground.

”No, no, we require no apologies. We are fortunate to not have faded away completely. Isn’t that _right_?” But Poke slowly dismounted, slinking off and dissolving into the crowd by the front door. 

”Hey, wait-“

”Don’t worry about them,” it dismissed, “They will need to understand that some things will have to remain unsaid.” After brief hesitation, the spotted pink Junimo frantically followed. Daniel looked back and forth between two points, wondering whether to chase them. But no, he realized, he wouldn’t figure out anything there- better that he stayed so he could fully understand how deep this ran.

The leader sat down on the lip of the cauldron, basking in the essence. “In any case, perhaps that was the right idea. I don’t see any reason for all to remain here, so...” None of them moved, the glows from their chests almost extinguished. Jarringly, a few muttered curses. “Go on!”

”We love you,” a red Junimo whispered abruptly, then scurried off towards the hut. Following their lead, the color drained lethargically from the room. The ceiling dripped.

“I do apologize… but now,” the Junimo’s twin sparks twinkled, “As for the things that _do_ need saying... Well, I suppose we could start with an introduction. We don’t normally have names, but Arthur was quite fond of calling me Enzo.”

”My grandfather,” Daniel leaned forward, feeling his heart start to beat out of rhythm in his chest. “My grandfather knew you.” If he was meant to measure up, then- a slimy hand came down on that thought. No. What was strange, though, was that he didn’t imagine him associating with someone so… high-status. Or, forceful, even.

“Yes.” If he’d had one, he might have adjusted his tie. “He was special in many ways, so naturally he was the one the Junimos were drawn to.” Daniel was again brimming with questions, but Enzo plowed through the speech without pause. “We have great power, but there are certain things our kind is unable to do. He helped the forest spirits- us- maintain the forest in the Valley. Balance,” the fireflies within his belly see-sawed in demonstration. “Balance and connections.” He floated down from the cauldron, treading towards Daniel. He lowered the volume on his device. “But… I must ask. Is he...” he allowed the machine to trail off. “Dead?” Daniel finished. “Yeah. For I don’t know how long by now… shouldn’t you know better than I would?” 

”What thing? And… my grandfather. Is that why you chose me?”

Enzo began to pace, pondering the questions. “We have no say in who gets chosen for the task. That’s why I had to…” He stopped, locking eyes with him. “Listen. What matters is this: There is one singular _problem_ here. Yes, only one: everyone in this town is in grave-” 

”Danger.” He sighed. “Yeah, Poke tried to tell me about a danger million times, but never could say from _what_.” 

”They did?” The Junimo seemed startled. “And… you’ve given them a name. I see…” Daniel tried to keep his face neutral, but he felt strangely about the way he spoke. “But yes. If we don’t fix the forest, The Valley will be plunged into chaos as our kind ceases to exist. They are blissful now, but...”

He sucked in a breath, hearing the almost invisible sounds of a spider spinning another web. Pelican Town- ruined? No, it couldn’t be. That was impossible.

Daniel leaned back, pushing himself into the pile of clothes. “So… I guess that’s why some of your voices are gone.” The creature nodded. “But… one thing I don’t understand is the bit about the forest. It’s thriving, I mean- at least, everyone seems to think so.” 

”No, no, I don’t just mean the physical forest,” Enzo ‘sighed,’ “The entire Valley is a forest of connections. The ecosystems, the magic and the mundane, human relationships… Agh, this is something I can’t properly explain.” He motioned to the room around him. “In short, Community extends further than just the surface of this town. But as for what’s really important, if you choose to accept it…” He produced a yellowed note from the air. “I believe you left this behind.” Daniel gently took the paper, realizing it was the same one from Robin’s shop. 

”I can’t read this,” he told him. “I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do with it.” 

”Look closely. I believe you’ll find most of it to be legible now.” Daniel looked down, still seeing the same unintelligible scrawl as before- but the longer he looked, it all just _made sense_. Daniel reeled at yet another discovery, unable to gather a single coherent thought.

“It’s a list,” he said, “Of things I’m supposed to gather, places to look for… and…” He squinted at what looked like a third list, but he couldn’t decipher it. It was bled over in dark, murky ink. 

“Yes, some of it is still unintelligible, even to me… It was used for… language practice. Yes, language practice of an otherworldly sort,” the creature itself made a throaty noise. “But the important bits are there,” his lights danced. He folded the note and tucked it into his pocket.

“So… All of this is going to help somehow. Keep everything perfect.” He crossed his arms, staring down at Enzo. _One_ problem… He was having a hard time believing there was even that. Still… He could actually do something to fix it?

“Yes! Yes,” he said, “These will help our powers to slowly restore what’s been restored, both physically and not. This- what should I call this great place? this _dream_ will be destroyed otherwise.” Enzo waited expectantly at his knee. “Do we have you on board?”

A thought kept trying to rise at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite reach it. He knew there were things that he wanted to know, many holes that needed filling, but… ”Of course,” Daniel said. “I couldn’t let anything happen to… to my home. To my...” 

“Home? Hmm… Yes. That is quite fantastic.” Enzo seemed pleased. “Yes, yes. I’ll walk you to the door. I urge you to get started right away. You won’t be going anywhere for the time being, correct?” Daniel stood up, feeling a rush of heightened energy wash over him.

”No, definitely not. Nowhere else but here,” he stretched his limbs, dusting off what remained of his frayed sleeve.

“Great! And remember, always keep a positive attitude about these things, yes? It’s a required part of the job,” the machine sang.

”Of course,” he began to walk towards the door. 

”Ah. Just a moment. Do you realize that you’re bleeding?”


End file.
